Playing With Fire
by yasminscorner
Summary: Zuko has never been one to accept, or love others with ease; however, what happens when a girl, who has a similar story to his, walks into his life? Will Zuko accept the feelings towards her, or will she get burned by playing with fire?
1. Chapter 1

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 1 - The Customer**

"Nephew," called a short, stumpy, elderly man with grey hair up to about his shoulder; his beard was as grey as his hair, but not nearly as long, and it surrounded his cheekbones and jaw thickly. This man, although not of the youngest generations, moved swiftly around the tea shop that he had run, cheerily attending to each and every customer - some coming, some leaving. Suddenly, from a door near the counter, which was located at the back of the shop, came another. It was a teenage boy this time; he seemed to be quite the opposite of his uncle. This boy's face had a straight, unmoving frown. He seemed to have an I-Could-Care-Less attitude about him. His hair was not nearly as long as his uncle's; it was simply a black, unruly mess on his head. There was something unique about this young man, however. It was the scar around his left amber-coloured eye, marking him with an unforgettable and … well, scarring past. What was so special about that scar? Why, everything - from how he'd gotten it, to who he'd gotten it from, and what it meant.

This boy had an undoubtedly, incredible gift - bending (a way of manipulating one or more of these elements: fire, water, earth, and air). He was a very powerful firebender, just as powerful - if not more - as the rest of his family, which relates back to the story of the scar. This boy came from no ordinary, powerful firebending family. No, he had come from a wealthy, royal one. Yes, this boy was royalty; as a matter of fact, he was next in line to become Fire Lord of the Fire Nation … that was, until he was banished by his own father and current Fire Lord, Fire Lord Ozai. After an outburst at a meeting in which he'd attended along with his uncle, his father and his father's generals, he was seen as disrespectful. Ozai was struck with the utmost anger, and he challenged his only son to an Agni Kai (fire duels used to settle disputes in the Fire Nation - the goal being to knock his/her opponent of his/her feet, or to deliver a final blow to the face. Some, but not all, were fatal; however, these duels often always affected the participants' honour).The Agni Kai proceeded, and Fire Lord Ozai's son, only thirteen years of age, had lost. The boy's birthright had been renounced, and he was exiled from his homeland. So, the scar that this boy wears permanently over on the left side of his face isn't just a scar; it has marked him as an outcast; he was … the banished prince.

"Yes, Uncle," the boy's raspy voice asked. The elderly man spun around on his heel and took a wooden tray off of the counter, handing it to the boy.

"Clean off the tables and then wipe them down," his uncle instructed. "Oh, and Prince Zuko," his uncle whispered to him, "be sure to clear off _every_ table." Zuko raised one eyebrow and gave his uncle a uncertain nod. As his uncle proceeded back behind the door Zuko had previously come from, he rolled his eyes. _Illusive as always_, Zuko thought to himself as he moved from table to table, clanging cups onto the tray. The tea shop was now empty as the sun had begun to set, and even though it was night time, Zuko found the lack of customers surprising. _Uncle predicted a storm heading this way,_ he thought to himself, _perhaps the people of Ba Sing Se were afraid of rain_. He chuckled once on the inside, showing no signs of laughter on his face. Just as he had about to clear off the final cup off the last table of the tea shop, a hand slid over it. Zuko jumped back a bit, only just realizing a man had been sitting there, cloaked, this whole while.

"Oh," Zuko mumbled as he took the remainder of the cups to the back. Zuko squinted his eyes once more, while he'd opened the door, trying to make out who the man actually was. After a minute of trying, he proceeded inside. What was the point? He knew no one from here, nor did he want to. Letting the tray slip onto the table, he looked curiously at his uncle who'd been sitting on the floor beside a brewing pot of tea. Uncle, who had seemed to notice Zuko's curiosity, turned to him.

"Tea," he clarified offering a seat beside himself. Zuko merely stood beside where his uncle sat.

"No, thanks," Zuko denied, thinking it was being offered. Uncle merely chuckled.

"It's not for you, Prince Zuko," said Uncle kindly as he poured some of what smelt like jasmine tea out into a teacup. "And it's not for me either," Uncle spoke once more taking in the scent of the jasmine tea. Zuko's brow furrowed as he continued to look at his uncle who was intoxicating himself with the scent of his own tea. Zuko proceeded back to the tray with the cups, washing them out, and trying to find something to occupy his hands.

"Then who is it for," Zuko asked, seeing no point in brewing a tea not to be drunk; however, little did Zuko know that this cup of tea _was_ going to be drunk, and that the person drinking it would significantly play a role in his life. Uncle looked up from his tea and smiled.

"A customer - a very faithful customer - Prince Zuko. I don't know whether you've noticed her or not, but she comes in nearly everyday. She seems like a nice-" Uncle was cut off at the sound of teacups clinking loudly together. Zuko spun around on his heel with his right eye twitching.

"No," Zuko said firmly, "no more dates … especially not after what had happened with that girl." Uncle frowned slightly.

"I thought your date went rather well," he murmured. Zuko raised one eyebrow. Had Uncle spied on his dates? Zuko shook the idea from his head. He was Prince Zuko, he was busy searching for a way of regaining his honour, and 'dating' didn't exactly fit into his schedule. "Alright," Uncle sighed, "well … why don't you take this out to her?" Zuko left his work once more and looked at his uncle confused. The only person he'd seen out there was a man wrapped in a cloak.

"Uncle, there's only a man here," he told his uncle before walking over to his uncle. Uncle chuckled once more.

"I doubt that. Come. Let me show you," Uncle said as he rose up off the floor and ousted the fire. Zuko glared confusedly at Uncle. "Come, Prince Zuko. Confusion cannot be treated with just wondering," he spoke as he exited the back room and proceeded into the tea shop once more. Zuko rolled his eyes and let out a sigh as he followed his uncle. "There she is," Uncle whispered to Zuko indicating the stranger in the corner. Zuko squinted his eyes trying to get a better view at him or her. Slipping the teacup filled with jasmine tea into his had, Uncle gave him a nudge. Zuko looked at him bewilderedly and Uncle merely nodded. Sighing, Zuko trudged off toward the stranger. He hadn't known how long he'd stood there in front of the stranger, but every second that passed seemed to annoy him. Why wasn't the stranger saying anything? What? Couldn't he or she talk? Zuko rolled his eyes and looked down at the jasmine tea. Maybe he was supposed to talk first? He closed his eyes and sighed just to open them up once more and stare at his own reflection in the tea.

"Hi," Zuko awkwardly and quietly said. He could see the stranger's colour of his/her eyes now. Whatever the gender of the stranger before him, he/she had stunning and dazzling amethyst coloured eyes. He could make out yet another thing from the stranger by way of the moonlight now shining through the window before being covered by dark clouds once more - whoever this stranger was, they were smirking. "Here's your tea," Zuko said a bit louder placing it on the table and waiting for a 'thanks'. The stranger merely reached over and grabbed hold of the teacup bringing it to his/her face. Zuko squinted once more analyzing this suspicious person and still waiting for his thank-you so as to maybe catch the identity of this person. _I deserve one, don't I_, he asked himself, _especially from Uncle's favourite customer_. Time passed as he watched the stranger set down the cup time and time again without giving him a thank-you. "Well," he asked impatiently. The customer seemed to have shifted in his/her chair, waiting for him to continue. "Aren't you going to say, 'Thank you'," Zuko asked again, his voice rising while he was clenching his fists. He could see a smirk play on the person's lips. Sensing the slight tension between his nephew and his favourite customer, Uncle moved onto the scene.

"Amira," Uncle said softly, "are you enjoying your tea?" The stranger leaned forward and to Zuko's surprise, it was indeed a female. As she pushed the hood of her cloak back, allowing it to fall to the back, she revealed her long and thick, curly, brown hair. Zuko's heart pounded against his chest as he watched this creature perfectly sip tea from her cup. He shook his head. _What were these … thoughts? These … feelings, _he asked himself, shaking everything out of his head once more. _Snap out of it. You're Prince Zuko, _he told himself.

"Why yes, Mushi, it's wonderful," she relayed in a breathless tone. Uncle's cheeks blushed a vague shade of pink.

"Well, you know I _do_ make it myself," he added. Amira gave a slight chuckle and thanked him for the tea once more, leaving two copper pieces on the table and taking another big sip of her tea. Her eyes glanced up at Zuko who had been staring at her oddly ever since she'd revealed her identity. She merely chuckled and set down her teacup on the table. Rising up off of her seat, she pulled the hood on her cloak over her head, but not as far down as it had been before. Uncle nudged Zuko to collect the things off of the table. Snapping out of his daze, Zuko did so, stealing glances at this Amira girl. He didn't know what he was feeling, nor if he wanted to feel like this. It made him sick to his stomach, but it was a feeling he enjoyed. Zuko pretended to be doing something important at the counter while he overheard Uncle and Amira's conversation. "Are you absolutely sure you have to leave so soon," he asked as Amira tightened her cloak around her.

"I'm afraid so, Mushi," she replied with a bit of sorrow in her voice. Uncle looked out the window at the approaching storm clouds.

"There's a storm coming, you know," he informed her. Amira nodded and too looked out the window. She could also hear the shouting of guards and the stories of other civilians. It was her time to leave.

"I'll be fine, Mushi," she said with a smile, giving him a slight bow, "it was very nice to see you again." Iroh bowed in her direction as well.

"I apologize for my nephew back there. He doesn't usually stare at the customers - well, maybe sometimes - perhaps he's a bit shy," Iroh commented with a glance towards Zuko. Amira nodded her head and looked at Zuko.

"Well, it was nice meeting you too, Lee," she stated before quickly departing the tea shop. At the sound of her voice, Zuko had nearly knocked over the teacup, trying to awkwardly decide between waving to her or not. Iroh slipped around behind the counter beaming at Zuko mischievously. Zuko's eyes rolled in the direction of his uncle and he sighed.

"No," he simply said, carrying the teacups back into the room behind the shop. Uncle frowned a bit before following his nephew into the back.

"I hadn't even said anything," Uncle stated as stacked up the teapots in a corner.

"I know you, Uncle," Zuko simply said; his raspy voice not showing a hint of the confliction stirring inside of him. His uncle heaved a heavy sigh.

"Is it too much for an uncle to want his nephew to find love," Iroh asked as he sat down on the floor cross-legged. Zuko grunted and stormed off to the sliding door that separated his 'bedroom' from the rest of the tea shop. Sliding it open, he stepped in and closed it. _I don't care about finding 'love'. I care about finding the Avatar. I have my honour to restore, after all_, he mentally told himself as he flung himself onto a mattress, he'd used for a bed. Sighing, he stared up at the ceiling. _But it would be nice - bah! What am I saying, _he thought. Zuko sat himself up on his mattress and shook his head clearing all of these thoughts out. Suddenly, sprinklings of water had wet his cheek, Zuko jumped immediately and looked at the window directly beside him. Shutting it against the heavy downpour of rain, Zuko shook the water off of his cheek and sunk back onto his mattress. Although he hadn't wanted to, he wondered about the girl, Amira. What he'd say to her if he saw her tomorrow? What she was like? Where she was now …

· · ·

The rain crashed down all around her as she walked barefooted through the streets of Ba Sing Se, searching for a place where she could take shelter tonight. She hugged her cloak tightly to her as the wind gushed and the rain continued to pour down on her. She could feel cuts on her feet as she had walked over many sharp stones. There didn't seem to be a shop nor home open. _I assume the people of Ba Sing Se don't like rain_, she chuckled to herself as she continued wandering around the streets searching for at least a dried cardboard box and a shed. Suddenly, something stirred from behind her. Amira froze in her tracks for a second and continued walking, briskly this time. She was now even more alert. The same noise stirred behind her once more. She started into a half-jog now, down the street. Amira had never feared anyone before in her life, but the noises she was hearing had unnerved her. She could distinctly hear the sound of her name being whispered, and the withdrawing of swords. The noise was heard once more, and Amira's pace quickened once more until she'd finally run into a dead-end. Her heart raced as she quickly turned around in a readied stance. "Come out," she called out to the 'empty' street. "Show yourself," she called once more, and in an instant, three men, clothed in blue armour stepped out from the shadows. Amira's eyes filled with fire as she noticed one man reaching for his blade. He charged forward at Amira and then in a quick second, a sudden whip of water had sent the man tumbling back. The water now levitated near Amira's hand. The man looked infuriated and stepped forward once more. Amira, too, had taken a step forward, not backing down one bit.

A second man stepped between the two. He seemed to be more peaceful, but still wore a frown on his wrinkled face. "Now, now," his voice said calmly to both of them. "We can just talk, can't we," he asked passively. Amira's eyes continued to glare at each one of the men. Then, with a grunt, the man who'd drawn his sword placed it back in its sheath. Amira's eyes didn't leave the men, but she stood down, allowing the water to gracefully fall back down to the puddle beside her. The second man gave a slight smirk. "My, Amira, how your waterbending has improved," the man said in a mocking tone. Amira's fury was rising quickly. "I'm sure your father would be happy to hear about that, but then again … considering that women learning waterbending for fighting purposes are forbidden … he might not. That'd be your - what? - third disappointing action," the man continued with another smug, sly smirk. Amira could feel her heartbeat pounding against her chest. She would give anything to knock the three men off their feet and run. The man's smirk disappeared as he proceeded, "We're not here to play games or put up with your petty attempts at waterbending. We're here for business. You're coming with us-" the second man continued.

"And who says I have to play along," Amira finally spoke . Each man had seemed to chuckle lowly at her remark, only making Amira angrier. Suddenly, the second man, stepped forward to Amira. Amira had nearly gotten into her stance before he pinned her against the wall.

Lowering his lips to her ear, he whispered, "Why, The Chief, of course." Amira was disgusted. Her temper had now risen past it's boiling point. In a sudden movement, a splash of water slapped the man's cheek forcefully, sending him to the ground. The two other men charged at her swishing and swinging their blades all around. Amira dodged all except one that cut her upper arm. Gripping the wound and giving an outcry of pain, she sent water whipping at their faces. The men hollered in pain, and Amira seized her opportunity, she ran. Down and down several streets she went, turning into alleys and cutting street corners - any and everything to lose her father's men. She heard more sounds behind her, and so, she charged on yet faster. Her feet were sore from all the running, and the cuts on her feet didn't help at all. Suddenly, she'd slipped on a cobblestone, sending her down face first onto the street. Her chin and elbows were scraped horribly to the point where a bit of blood oozed out. Amira struggled to get to her feet. She could hear the noise getting closer. She couldn't go back. She didn't want to! She had to find some way to move. In the next second, a hand had caught her shoulder. Amira turned around immediately, her chest heaving as she still lay on the ground. She closed her eyes in relief, for who she'd seen was nothing more than the boy from the tea shop. He extended a hand, and after taking hers, pulled Amira up to her feet.

"Are you alright," he asked, his face not changing its frowning state. Amira nodded her head, and then suddenly, she felt a surge of pain run through her body. Gripping her arm, she sunk to the ground once again. She thought she heard Zuko let out a small gasp, but she could've been wrong. He did, however, sink himself to his knees. As he placed the arm that hadn't been wounded around his neck, he hoisted Amira up and walked her down to the tea shop once more. Amira had been fading, she felt faint almost as if the pain would suck her down into an abyss. Zuko quickened his step, leading her into the back room of the tea shop and gently laying her on the floor. "Uncle," he called out, without trying to hide a sense of panic in him. Soon enough, Iroh had stepped out and his face became worried as he looked from Zuko to Amira. He hadn't asked a single question, instead, he'd gone back to the storage room and fished for a couple of herbs. Amira's eyes had finally closed; she'd given in to the pain.

· · ·

In a few hours, Amira awoke to find sunlight breaking into a room and herself upon a mattress. Her cloak had been taken off, and she was simply wearing a dirty, battered and torn blue kimono. Having taken note that she'd no longer been in pain, she looked toward her wound which had been bandaged. Suddenly, the door opened and in came a familiar face; it was Iroh bringing in a tray of tea and sandwiches. Amira gave him a small and sleepy smile. "Good morning, your highness," Iroh said as he lay the tray down on the mattress. Amira had immediately tensed up. As Iroh gave a laugh, she realized him to be only joking and she proceeded to give a small laugh as well. Amira looked at the delicious sandwiches and the warm tea. Her stomach growled in both hunger and pleasure in seeing food.

"Good morning, Mushi," she said giving him a slight bow. Iroh merely smiled. Amira stole a quick glance behind him checking to see whether Zuko had been there or not. "Where's Lee," she asked politely before taking a nibble of her sandwich. Iroh smiled.

"He's out running some errands for me; he should be back soon," Iroh relayed before rising to his feet. "Oh, and he told me what happened last night," he stated. Amira froze before taking another bite of her sandwich. Iroh looked back at her. "If you really need a place to stay, we have no problem taking you in," he told her. Amira exhaled an exhale of relief. _Oh, it's about that_, she thought to herself. Giving him a kind and courteous smile, she bowed her head at him once more.

"Thank you so much, Mushi. I appreciate your hospitality," she thanked. Iroh's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he returned her courteous bow and left the room. Amira took another bite of her sandwich. _Maybe this wouldn't be so bad_, she thought to herself. There was no more running away from palace life, no more searching up and down for a place to stay, the guards couldn't possibly know she was here, everything would be alright. As she leaned against the window, she peered out into the - now - bright city of Ba Sing Se. It was beautiful, she admitted, when it wasn't raining. Suddenly, the door opened once more. Amira looked back only to see her rescuer stride in, still bearing that ever-present frown on his face. They simply stared at each other. The room had suddenly begun to feel very awkward. Amira broke the gaze and stood up, extending a hand to Zuko. "Thank you," she expressed quietly. Zuko looked down at her hand and then back up at her, raising one eyebrow and not saying a word. Amira dropped her hand to her side and courteously bowed her head at Zuko, walking over to the sliding door. Just as she had exited, she could've sworn she heard the voice behind her murmur, 'You're welcome', and at this she half-smiled. She hadn't known why she did, but she simply did.

Zuko watched her leave the room. Uncle Iroh had told him about taking her in, the fact that she'd share Zuko's room, and that she'd work at the tea shop until she had enough pieces to get her to wherever she needed to be. Disgruntled by all of this, Zuko still agreed. As he sat on his mattress, shutting the window and leaving the room in complete darkness, he contemplated his actions from last night. _If Uncle hadn't wanted me to check if there was a store open that sold the herbs he'd needed, I'd have never found Amira_, he thought to himself. Then, in an instant, a thought had occurred, _Had Uncle known?_ Zuko remembered hearing the fussing and curiously, he investigated it. He hadn't seen any men, just Amira, taking off rather fast down the street - until she fell. He sighed. Had he become soft? He rolled his eyes. What did it matter anyways? _So, the customer has become the house guest - maybe this wouldn't be too bad_, he thought as he lay himself down on his bed, closing his eyes, and trying to catch whatever little sleep he could.


	2. Chapter 2

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 2 - The Disturber**

Amira had made her way outside to the tea shop only to be greeted, cheerily by Iroh once more. "There you are," he said while handing her an apron as well as a tray. Amira was absolutely shocked. _Work_, she asked herself as she took the objects hesitantly. "You start today," he said, still bearing a pleasant smile on his face. Amira gave a slight and unsure nod while shooting an unhappy look at Uncle Iroh, who seemed to not have noticed this. Amira quickly tied the apron around herself and took hold of the tray in both her hands. After all, what were she to do? This man had taken her in. She watched as Iroh moved himself into the back room only to return several seconds later, with an expressionless Zuko. Zuko side-glanced at Amira before turning to his uncle who had been rattling off instructions, still not listening to a word his uncle muttered. "And you'll show her around the shop, and then you'll - Zuko," his uncle spoke giving him a slight nudge, snapping Zuko back into reality. "Did you get everything I said," he asked raising one eyebrow.

"Okay," Zuko mumbled mindlessly, before approaching the desk to take orders. Uncle looked strangely at Zuko, but shook his head dismissively. _Teenagers_, he thought to himself as he made his way back into his tea-brewing room. Customers lined up, barking orders at Zuko and Amira, who nodded at each customer not understanding a word they were saying. At last, Amira watched as Zuko left the counter and retreated to the back room, only to step out into the teashop carrying a tray of teacups. The standing customers, immediately scrambled into seats and awaited their teacup to be placed on their table. Amira gave a small laugh, watching each customer sip his/her tea differently. Some slurped it down greedily, leaving a broad, goofy smile on their faces afterward. Others gracefully sipped it, taking in its essence with a small smile of satisfaction, twitching on their faces. Something had struck her immediately. It sent her back to the age of 13, only 2 years ago; the first time her parents had thrown a tea party that she'd been invited to. She remembered herself wearing a bright, blue kimono (similar to the one she currently had on, with the exceptions of the tears and rips … and dirt), and her hair had been rolled up on top of her head. Her face was caked with powder and other cosmetics. She recalled giving herself a glance of dissatisfaction. She hated the powder, the dressing up, the hair-doing, everything; nevertheless, she descended down the stairs from her bedroom to the great, high-ceilinged, porcelain-white coloured, stunning dining room. Everything in that room was made out of the finest substances, she remembered as her mother bragged about it to a maid.

She watched as 'the help', as her mother preferred to called them, busied themselves around the dining room - setting the table, laying out place mats, adding the final touches to the dining room, such as: putting up new curtains, laying down new rugs, setting new chairs around the table. Everything had to be perfect, her mother would say. Amira sighed and glanced outside one of the undressed windows. _The guests wouldn't be arriving for another 35 minutes_, she thought to herself, smirking. As she glanced at the maids who were in a tizzy trying to get all their work in the dining room finished, she smirked once more. Slipping out of the dining room, she stole through the kitchen and out the back door to the frigid, winter air of the North Pole. Careful not to be seen and without a second glance, she traipsed further away from her home and toward the frozen trees that harboured the back of the compound. Slipping into the forest she knew very well, she made her way to her favourite spot - an unfrozen pond. Once there, she shook out the curls and clips out of her hair allowing them to fall onto the snow. She glanced right and left before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She concentrated hard on what she had once heard a master telling his students, "Steady, my students. This art isn't a forceful movement - gracefully, now. Concentrate. Allow yourself to be at the will of the water. Feel the energy of it course through your veins. Move with it. That's it." She opened her eyes once more. _Energy, coursing through your veins; at the will of the water; concentrate,_ she repeated to herself, mentally, as she started in a slight sway. The water rose slowly up out of the small pond. Her eyes widened as she watched it. _Okay, concentrate_, she thought once more to herself. She could hear the teacher's other instructions, "Now, guide it. Don't lose your concentration. Don't be forceful. You are not the water's master. You are its guide." _Guide_, she thought to herself still managing to keep the water levitated. She continued her sway; although she her swaying had gotten deeper, she was careful not to be forceful with it.

She could see the water beginning to move with her swaying. _This is it_, she thought to herself. Suddenly, a noise sounded behind her. She gasped and instinctively, the water lashed out of her hands and onto the cause of the noise's face as she spun around immediately. Although she was sure the person was no firebender, she thought she saw steam coming from the person's ears. "That's it," his voice growled at her. Amira gulped and looked up into the man's eyes, which looked exactly like hers.

"Father, I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-" she started. He simply held up a hand and silenced her at once.

"You know what the customs are! You know you're not supposed to be waterbending," he continued growling at her.

"But, father, please! There's nothing wrong with waterbending! Everyone else can," Amira explained. Her father closed his eyes and turned his head.

"I don't want to hear it, Amira. You're not like everyone else. You know what your mother and I think of this," he heaved a great sigh before re-opening his eyes. Amira's eyes glared at her father. She was tired of being told what to do, where to go, and most of all, to surrender her bending. She wouldn't have it. It was too much. She wanted to bend, she didn't want to have to listen to her parents anymore. She was 13! Half the kids her age were already finding boyfriends, discovering the world _and_ learning their bending. She wanted to just runaway, to escape this sheltered, overprotective world. With her fists clenched, she walked straight past her father and into her home.

"Where have _you_ been," her mother's cold, shrill voice sounded. "And _what_ happened to your hair!" Amira gave no answer and proceeded upstairs. Slamming her door closed, she flopped herself on her bed. Her tears slid down her cheeks. How could they do this to her? Her entire life has been planned and scheduled. There was never a time where she was asked what _she_ wanted. She was sick of it. She was born into a life she hadn't wanted - a life she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy. She was sick of it. All of it. She could hear her mother's shrill voice yelling out "What", "How could she", and "What a disgrace." She scoffed, _How many times have I heard _that? She was tired of being a disgrace and a disappointment. She was a teenage girl! She was supposed to be happy, wasn't she? She deserved a bit of happiness, hadn't she? She cried herself to sleep that night, without any knocks on her doors, or any visits from her parents. She was all alone in that palace that harboured tons of maids and servants, but she was used to it. After all, she'd lived her life that way for thirteen years.

A throat cleared behind her, and Amira immediately jumped from her daydream. Looking around, she gazed into two amber eyes that stared back into hers. "Um, I'm supposed to show you around," his raspy voice whispered. Amira gave a slight nod and walked behind the apron-wearing Zuko. Leading her into the back room, Zuko paused in front of a table that supported teacups and teapots of various sizes. Amira too stopped in front of the table. Zuko's mind raced trying to think of what exactly he was supposed to be telling her. _It was a teashop. There really wasn't much to show her_, he sighed a bit and awkwardly extended a hand out to teacups on the left-hand side of the table. "Those are teacups," his raspy voice said once more. "That's a teapot," he said as he showed her the teapots on the right-hand side of the table. "Those are tea leaves and herbs," he concluded pointing to the plants in the middle of the table. "Any questions," he asked as he looked at her in a bored fashion. Amira suppressed a slight laugh by biting her lip and shook her head. Zuko gave a slight nod and walked back outside.

"Um, Lee," Amira finally spoke. Zuko felt his blood run cold through his veins. He didn't know why, but something about they way she said his name gave him chills. Zuko spun around on his heel nearly tripping over himself. His cheeks gave a light pink flush of colour.

Amira gave a slight giggle before completing her question, "What am I supposed to do?" Zuko's lips gave a slight twitch into a small smile, but then returned to it's usual serious self.

"Don't you know how to brew tea," Zuko mumbled. Amira looked down, her cheeks scarlet red as she shook her head.

"I-I thought your uncle would be doing that," she whispered.

"He normally does, but with the crowd as big as the one outside, a bit of help would be nice. I guess, Uncle didn't know his new assistant has never brewed tea before," he continued. Amira looked up at him.

"Why don't you do it then," she asked. Zuko raised one eyebrow.

"Because that's not my job," he answered. Amira glared at him before she turned toward the teacups and teapot once more. Holding her head high, she placed some tea leaves and herbs into the teapot and covered it. Folding her arms, she looked around for a place to start the fire. Carrying the teapot off the table, she sat herself on the ground and picked two stones that seemed to have been placed on the floor for a reason. Striking them against each other, she tried desperately for some sparks. Suddenly, two hands placed themselves on hers from behind. "You're horrible. Let me," his raspy voice whispered to her once more. Amira gave a small glance behind her at Zuko and gave a slight nod, surrendering the stones to him, and rising up from the ground.

"I'll go take orders then," she asked. Zuko, who had immediately struck a fire in a second, looked up at her and muttered a small 'mhm'. With that, Amira left the room and proceeded to take orders. Hours passed and finally, the teashop had closed. Exhausted, Amira dragged her feet all the way to the back room and into the room she now shared. Flopping herself on the mattress, she sighed. The mattress hadn't been making anything better. It wasn't as soft as it had felt this morning when she'd woken up.

"Uh," a voice sounded from beneath her. Amira lifted herself up by her arms and looked properly at what she'd been lying on. Her cheeks turned a scarlet red colour once more and her eyes widened considerably. She'd been laying on a confused Zuko. Immediately, she rolled herself off of him and onto the floor.

"I-I'm so sorry," she said as she sat up on the floor without giving him another look. Zuko simply looked at her.

"Let's just pretend that never happened," he stated as he too looked away from her. Amira gave a slight nod and rose to her feet. She'd spotted a rolled up sheet in the corner. Spreading it across the floor, she lay herself on it. It was more comfortable than sleeping in a cardboard box, she told herself, even if the floor was rock hard. Hours and hours had passed, but Amira could find no peace of mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of the men and her parents. She rolled and changed her position on her floor bed several times before finally sitting up.

"Ugh, I'm never getting any sleep," she grunted. With a quick glance at Zuko, he seemed to be sleeping perfectly rolled over onto one side. Rising to her feet, she silently exited the room and proceeded into the teashop. She hadn't known why she had, but she just did. She supposed maybe the idea of waiting for tea relaxed her. Realizing there had still been a half-full cup of tea on one of the tables, she sat herself down beside it. _Jasmine_, she noted. _Perhaps Mushi had forgotten his teacup on the table_. She glanced back over her shoulder to check if perhaps he would return. She waited several minutes, but no one had been there. Shrugging her shoulders, she leaned herself against a window and hovered her hand over the teacup, practicing her waterbending. This brought her great peace. She marvelled at the way she moved the tea in different swaying movements. The way she submitted to the water and allowed it to 'course through her veins' induced a great wave of serenity to sweep over her. That was … until she heard a door open behind her. The tea splattered onto the table, and she leapt out of the seat turning around on her heel to face her disturber.


	3. Chapter 3

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 3 - The Visitors**

"What're you doing," the young man asked. Amira sighed; _oh, it was Lee_, she told herself.

"What are _you_ doing," she asked. Zuko raised one eyebrow.

"It _is_ my uncle's teashop," he reminded her. Amira rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't give you permission to stalk me," she replied. Zuko's eyes glared at her.

"Stalk? I didn't see you on the floor, and I," his voice had broken the loudness it once had, and he continued softly, " … Uncle wanted me to check if you were doing something stupid," he replied. Amira folded her arms and looked out the window. Something about her stance, the way she spoke to him or just the way she argued back sent chills down Zuko's spine. He hadn't known why. Not yet, anyways. He'd never experienced anything of this sort before. He'd only just met this girl, he couldn't have liked her - could he? No, definitely not; however, there was something about her, something he'd felt was exceptionally unordinary. He felt as if he knew this girl, as if she knew him too. He hadn't realized a great amount of time had passed with him just staring at this girl. All his thoughts had seemed to swirl around his head, and then finally, he opened his mouth to ask her something he never thought he would, "Are-". Suddenly, several urgent knocks resounded at the door. Amira and Zuko looked at each other and then at the door. Who could arrive at the teashop's doorstep this late at night? Amira's heart pounded against her chest as she watched Zuko make his way toward the door. She'd tried to return back to the room, however, her feet had felt as if they were glued to the floor. Just as Zuko had laid his hand on the doorknob, a figure from the back room emerged. Iroh stood there, his hair no longer tied back into a half-pony tail.

"Nephew, why don't you take Amira back to the room. I'll get the door," Iroh said politely, making his way to the door that Zuko stood at completely confused.

"But I'm right here," Zuko replied. Iroh merely closed his eyes and took a step forward to Zuko. "Hide her, and keep her safe," he whispered and gave Zuko a nod toward the back room. Zuko sighed figuring it impossible to argue and or question a 'cryptic old man' anyway. "Amira," Zuko spoke to her. She'd finally snapped back into reality. Her mind had been swimming in thoughts of the three men that had surrounded her previously. What if they'd returned? She would have jeopardized these innocent refugees who've been nothing but kind to her. Zuko motioned her to follow him, and she complied immediately. Giving another glance at Iroh, she noticed him waiting until both Amira and Zuko had retreated to the back room before opening the door. Zuko led Amira quickly into the storage room, which was large enough to fit two people. Amira looked at him curiously.

"What's going on," she asked, unwilling to believe her fear had come true, but if it had … had Zuko or Iroh known about the three men, her past and who she was? _Impossible. They couldn't have_, she thought to herself. Zuko opened a small, but wide closet-like cabinet near the back of the storage room that was almost undiscoverable.

"Get in there," he instructed. Amira raised one eyebrow. "Just do it," he continued. He hadn't known why he was so forceful at this point, but the way his uncle had told him to hide her made him feel as if this girl was in danger, and something in him didn't want her to get hurt.

With a sigh, Amira complied and squeezed herself into the cabinet. There had still been space enough for one person, and Zuko had squeezed himself in too. They both sat with their knees bent and touching each other, and their backs against either sides of the cabinet. Amira hugged her knees close to her, breathing in and out heavily, worried at who may have been at the door. Zuko watched the worry on her face continue with the silence protruding the air. "Cold," he whispered finally breaking the silence. Amira jumped and looked at Zuko. She hadn't realized her lip was quivering from the cold. She simply shrugged and hugged her knees closer to her. Zuko looked at his own knees. Suddenly, both could hear the door to the back room burst open.

"We know you're hiding her," a man's voice savagely said. Amira's eyes enlarged and her heart had begun to beat faster. Zuko looked at her and then at the door to the cabinet.

"Hiding who," Iroh asked dumbly. She could hear the man give a growl of frustration and slam down something that seemed to shatter - a teapot, maybe.

"For the 70th time, AMIRA - THE - GIRL - THE - RUNAWAY," he said slowly and loudly. Before Iroh could answer, another man had seemed to step in.

A calmer voice that Amira had also recognized said, "Come on, Long, obviously the old man can't remember a girl being here. There's no need to question the poor being any further." A pause came, and Amira along with every other member except the previous speaker was confused. "Search the rooms," he ordered. Amira had withheld her breath; she opened her mouth in a panic state, but a hand covered it. He held his finger to his lips as his amber eyes stared meaningfully into hers. Amira nodded. Zuko listened keenly to the men's activities. They'd rummaged through his bedroom, through Uncle's bedroom, and there had been only one room left … the storage room. Apparently Amira had realized this as well, as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat and shut her eyes closed. Zuko could hear the men's footsteps linger around in the storage room a bit.

"There's nothing here," the savage voice of Long called back. Amira exhaled as she heard the man's feet walk back toward the door.

"Hold on. What's that," the calmer one said. Amira's hands clenched themselves into fists as she nervously hoped he wasn't referring to the cabinet.

"Gentlemen," Iroh had finally spoken, "why don't I prepare you, both, a cup of tea to take home. Come now."

"Silence," the once calm voice cried out, and something had tumbled backward. Zuko's eyes widened as he started for the handle. Amira had been too frightened to move. What if they'd found her? They'd take her back to the place she felt more like a prisoner in than a princess. Zuko stopped himself from the doorknob, remembering Uncle's words. He looked toward Amira who seemed to be much too terrified to do much else other than sit and listen to the chaos outside. Zuko sat himself back against the cabinet and waited, listening intently. The footsteps had grown nearer. Amira shut her eyes tighter almost as if the tighter she shut them, the more this horribleness would go away. Two hands placed themselves on her arms. Amira opened her eyes only to stare into amber ones once more. "Look. They're obviously going to find us here," he whispered quietly, "so in order to get out of this, you need to follow what I say, understand?" Amira turned her head. Hadn't she run away from being told what to do? Still, this was survival. She looked back to him and gave a slight nod. Zuko removed his hands from her and listened closely once more to the movement outside. The footsteps had finally come to a stop in front of the cabinet. After two minutes of surveying the cabinet, Long had finally reached for one of the handles. As he had done so, however, Zuko kicked it opened, sending a stunned Long tumbling back. Seizing Amira's arm, Zuko raced out of the storage room. With several quick glances thrown around the room, he hadn't seen his uncle or the man accompanying Long.

Suddenly, something stirred behind them. Amira let out a slight shriek as an infuriated Long charged at both of them swinging his sword in all directions. "Move, move, move," Zuko shouted as he tugged Amira behind him. Amira sprinted as fast as she could behind Zuko. Then, suddenly, she'd tripped on one of the broken shards of the teapot that had been shattered on the floor. Down to the floor she fell, her feet splintered with small shards of the teapot and her chin roughed by the wooden floor. A hand suddenly seized her from behind. Amira fussed and shrieked, trying to wriggle herself out of the man's grip. "Now, now, Princess Amira, don't fight your birthright," Long snickered. Amira continued to fuss, trying every possible way to set herself free from Long's grasp. Zuko turned back immediately realizing Long had been snickering. His amber eyes widened then glared at the man with the victorious smile plastered on his face. Zuko charged at him, acting solely on impulse. Suddenly, Long's smile turned into a menacing smirk as he drew his sword placing the blade against Amira's neck. Zuko stopped dead in his tracks as he watched the man snicker at Amira's quivering. "Not a step closer, commoner," Long stated savagely toward Zuko. Zuko clenched his hands tightly and glared even harder at Long. "Now step out of the way," Long instructed. Zuko stood his ground, his feet shoulder-width apart and his breathing heavy. Long waited several seconds taking in Zuko's stance, then snickering and laughing at the thought that a mere commoner could think he could take on a fully trained water tribe soldier. This boy was no match for him. "Boy, I could take you down with one hand tied behind my back. Now step out of the way," he commanded a bit more forceful than previously.

"Or what," Zuko muttered. The man erupted with laughter.

"Why, I kill you, of course. Then, I kill Miss Runaway over here if she refuses to cooperate," he stated before erupting into laughter once more. Zuko finally realized the only way out of this.

"Amira, close your eyes," Zuko stated.

"Yes, Amira, you surely wouldn't want to see the bloody mess your boyfriend will turn into after I'm done with him," Long sneered. Zuko looked at Amira whose cheeks had been tear-stained from the fright.

"Do it," Zuko instructed. Amira did as she was told. _Please don't die_, she thought to herself. Several seconds had passed by in complete silence. Amira wondered whether Long was just that quick at finishing Zuko off that he hadn't had time to give a cry of pain. Then suddenly, a warm _swoosh_ skidded past her, and in a second's time, Long had let out a terrible yelping sound. Suddenly, a hand from in front of her seized her wrist and pulled her forward, away from the chaos. Amira finally opened her eyes as she had been much too frightened by the ear-piercing yelp to do much else other than cringe. She quickly followed Zuko as they stole away from the teashop and rounded a corner into a dark, narrow alleyway. Just as Amira had attempted to run towards the other end of it, Zuko pulled her hand, sticking her against the wall. "Shh," he whispered as he too stuck himself against the wall. The darkness seemed to have concealed both of them. Two men scrambled from the teashop. One, Long, looked as if his face had been slashed or burned severely on one side. Both men had been bickering incessantly about the inability to capture the girl, the boy or the old man.

Apparently Iroh had been too much for both to withstand. Both men continued on bickering and squabbling amongst each other so intensely that they had walked right past the alleyway. Both Zuko's and Amira's chests heaved in nervousness as they watched the men move past the alleyway. Amira watched as Zuko edged himself toward the end and peered out inconspicuously. "Gone," he whispered back. Amira let out a sigh, and a feeling of shame washed over her almost immediately. Zuko looked at her curiously. "Did you hear what I said," he asked in reference to the sadness etched on her face. Amira merely looked up at him and then at the ground, sinking to it and hugging her knees. Zuko's brow furrowed. Hadn't her greatest threat been thwarted just now? What more was there to be sad about? Zuko simply watched the girl he'd protected hug her knees into her chest as several tears had begun to run down her face. He couldn't understand why she was crying, but it made him want to ask. Stepping forward, he cleared his throat and sat himself down beside her staring at the wall opposite them. "Um," he began, trying to figure out a way to ask all his questions. A short pause followed his beginning, but he continued in a whisper, "what's wrong?"

Amira wiped her tears off her cheeks and stared at the wall in front of them as well. "You probably think I'm some sort of freak, running away from home - from the life of a princess, who'd want to run away from that, right," she asked sarcastically. She sighed. "Trust me, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Rules, isolation, no one should live like that," she added. "And then there were my parents …"she stopped as she wiped more tears off her cheeks.

"Yeah, I know," Zuko stated, his groggy voice not changing it's indifferent tone. Amira looked at Zuko, and Zuko, in turn, looked over at her.

"I don't want to go back," she whispered. Zuko hadn't known what washed over him then at that moment, but in a matter of seconds, Amira's hand had rested in his own, and strangely, he didn't push it away. It was nice having someone he could relate to a bit. He almost didn't feel as if he were alone.

"You won't have to," he whispered back to her. A small smile twitched on Amira's face as she looked into his amber eyes once more. There was something about this moment that made Amira feel almost normal. Although, as quickly as these feelings had come in, they were followed by a shadow of doubt and realization that all this might not last forever; however, for right now, she would dwell in the presence of another outcast, inviting, for the first time, a feeling of inclusiveness in.


	4. Chapter 4

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 4 - Sanctuary**

The bright morning light had shone onto Amira's face as she crinkled her nose before opening her eyes. She was back in Zuko's bedroom, laying on his bed, still fully-clothed. Propping herself up on her elbows, she surveyed her surroundings. It was the late morning as the sun had begun to settle itself in the middle of the sky in time for noon. Suddenly, a whispered groan was heard directly beside her. Turning her gaze to the source of the groan, she'd noticed it was Zuko, lying on the floor, covered in a blanket. A small smile formed on her face, even though she wasn't exactly sure why it had. Sitting herself up on the bed properly, she hugged her knees, staring out the window, thinking about all that had been said last night. Everything that she had assumed would come out of letting someone know her past, was wrong. Or perhaps, Zuko and his uncle were just different from all the others. _Different_, she thought to herself, with a smile beginning to crack onto her face. Then, just as the smile had cracked onto her face, it faded as she thought more about last night. Those men would no doubt relay her location back to her father, and in little to no time, they would be back, she was sure of this. It was a miracle that she'd escaped; however, it was a greater miracle that Zuko had escaped. How did he do it? She glanced over at the sleeping creature. Even in his sleep, he bore that bothered expression. She never did ask where he'd gotten that scar, or how he recently managed to get away from one of her father's top men. Perhaps she shouldn't ask, not yet anyways. Rising to her feet, she steadily made her way past Zuko and out to the teashop. A number of people had been in there, but none seemed to bother about a new face stepping into the serene atmosphere. They were all indulged in their tea. Iroh, himself, didn't seem to bother about Amira's presence. He hummed to himself and carried out his work peacefully and joyfully.

Amira, too, had indulged herself in her work, and in a few minutes, another face had joined her in the teashop. Despite everything that had been said last night, and the fact that they'd successfully escaped a nightmarish event, Zuko still bore that indifferent, annoyed expression. Amira looked up from her work and beamed a smile at Zuko that he seemed to either have not noticed or ignored. She arched an eyebrow, but shook all thoughts away. _Lee's probably got a lot on his mind_, she told herself as she continued to take orders and clean down tables. Suddenly, a shadow had been cast over her as she finished clearing off a table from which the customer had spilled his tea before leaving in a haste. Turning around slowly, she stared up into the pale face of her rescuer. She smiled a small smile that he still hadn't returned. He merely looked into her eyes and stated, "My uncle wants me to take you out tonight." Amira's eyes widened a bit. _Out? Out where_, she asked herself. Wouldn't that put her in more danger than just staying in?

"U-Um, Lee," she said, and for some reason unbeknownst to her at the time, her cheeks had turned a vague shade of pink. "I don't think that's such a good idea," she continued while she finished clearing off the table.

"Uncle says that he has a feeling the men might return again tonight, and it'd be best if you weren't here to greet them again," Zuko finished.

"Surely, I'll need a disguise," Amira stated. Zuko gave her a slight nod.

"Uncle's supposed to have bought a new kimono for you," he replied. Amira gave an unsure nod. Something about this plan didn't seem entirely foolproof. These were _two_ of her father's toughest and cleverest men. Surely, they could've seen through two teenagers and an old man's plan; however, it would be nice to get away from the teashop for a while, and a new dress would be nice too. The two went their separate ways neither giving a single glance back at the other. Amira's mind buzzed with thoughts of herself and Zuko going out tonight. Although it sounded a bit strange, she hadn't expected much to happen. In fact, she imagined them both sitting in silence in that alleyway, waiting for the coast to be cleared. Shaking all thoughts from her head, she refocused on her task at hand.

Several hours had passed before the sun had moved its way across the sky, and turned a brilliant orange colour as it decided to set beyond the horizon. Iroh had left the shop at around noon in search for the dress that would tie together Amira's disguise. Amira watched out of the corner of her eye, through a small crack in the door how Zuko made sure his kimono was secured around his waist. Her lip slipped under her teeth as she allowed her eyes to return to her work - wiping down the order table. She hadn't known whether or not she had developed feelings for Zuko, but she was attracted to him, this she was sure of. The door had finally opened fully, and Amira jumped a bit, stopping her work to look at the bothered Zuko. "Uncle hasn't returned yet," he asked standing in the doorway of the back room. Amira shook her head and returned to her work.

"Where are we going anyway," she asked as she finally put down the rag and faced him. Zuko's gaze turned to outside, checking to see whether he could spot his uncle returning with the kimono in hand.

"There's a place someone had shown me a time before. I didn't like it, but she did," he replied, turning to face her once more. Amira gave a slight nod. A girl had taken him there? Could he be involved with someone else? Suddenly, Zuko moved from in front of her and made his way to the door, opening and closing it quickly as Iroh slipped in. With a grand smile on his face, Iroh approached Amira and laid the green kimono on her arms. Amira gave a slight smile and bow, dismissing herself from the room and retreating to Zuko's room in order to put it on. As she tied her kimono securely around her, she looked down at herself with a slight smile on her face. Although she'd never liked the feeling of trying on dresses, the feeling of a fresh one after all these years was a comfort. Suddenly, a voice cleared outside the sliding door to Zuko's bedroom.

"Yes," Amira called back, smoothing over the front of her kimono. The sliding door slid open slowly, and the boy with brilliant, amber eyes that seemed to widen as they'd taken in the picture of Amira in her new kimono, stepped in. Amira could distinctly see two spots of pink colour his cheeks, and at this her cheeks, had too turned a light shade of pink. After several minutes of not speaking, Zuko finally cleared his throat and looked up at her. Amira's eyes shyly dodged his and refocused on the ground before her.

"We should go," Zuko's groggy voice whispered. Amira gave a slight nod and followed him out to the teashop. He hadn't known what had washed over him, then again, did he ever? There was something about a clean kimono on Amira that made her just a bit more appealing to Zuko. "Oh," Zuko said recalling what Uncle had told him. 'Keep Amira safe, Nephew. She could be helpful to you.' Zuko turned back around to face her. Amira, who'd been more focused on the ground, had bumped against his hard chest. She quickly muttered an apology and took a step back. Zuko suppressed a chuckle and looked at her hair, it was still down in its usual form. "Um, your hair," he spoke to her once more. Amira arched an eyebrow then in a sudden realization, scooped up her hair and tied it into a messy bun, allowing her side bangs to cover a piece of her face. Zuko gave an approving nod and walked in front of her once more. The sun had now disappeared, and the twilight had taken over. Zuko, placing a hand on her elbow, steadily guided her to their destined location along the streets of Ba Sing Se.

"Where are we going exactly," she whispered to him as they passed many people on the streets, some heading home from work, some walking down in couples, some heading off to dinner. Everyone seemed to be doing something in Ba Sing Se. Zuko still hadn't answered, until several minutes later.

"Here," he said indicating a large, square-like area with a large pool and glowing lamps around it. Amira's face had brightened up a bit; it was absolutely stunning! She'd never seen anything like this at the North Pole, nor in any of her travels. Releasing herself from Zuko's grasp, she took a step toward the pool, staring down into it at her reflection. Her smile, however, had seemed to disappear now. She couldn't remember the last time she'd truly looked at herself. She'd changed so much through the years, she hadn't recognized it. She always assumed she still looked like that thirteen year old girl she was. As she continued to stare into the pool, she noticed this to be incorrect. She'd certainly developed a lot, her features had been more refined, and she looked - well, mature. The thought and realization of how long ago she'd left her home had finally settled in. She could feel her heart sinking as remembered her home, the North Pole. It was easy to leave, but it was hard looking back on it. Everything that she'd left behind... She shook her head. She'd wanted that. She couldn't take being bossed around for a second longer. She was a prisoner in her own home. She needed to run away.

A throat cleared behind her before speaking, "Um," he stated, unknowing what would follow this. He simply needed to get her attention. Amira looked back at him and gave a slight smile, one which he still hadn't returned. "So, you're a princess, right," he asked as they'd both walked to one of the neighbouring benches. Sitting on the bench quite some distance apart, Amira gave a slight nod. Zuko nodded in turn as well. "Water tribe, right," he asked, trying to make conversation, even though he hadn't known why he'd tried. Amira nodded once more, focusing her eyes on the ground. Zuko clenched his fists at the silence. "Are you going to say anything or can you just nod your head," he asked bluntly. A small smile cracked itself onto Amira's face as she giggled a bit at his question. Zuko arched an eyebrow as she watched him. "What's so funny," he asked defensively. Amira stopped her giggling and looked to the floor once more, her smile fading as it once had.

"You reminded me of someone," she muttered quietly. This girl was confusing him even more, but all this had, in a strange way, also brought a sense of intrigue.

"Who," he asked just as quietly. Amira looked at him with a half-smile.

"A boy I used to know," she replied. Zuko gave a slight nod. "Um, he was a good friend, and then, I left," she concluded. Zuko nodded once more.

"I had someone special once," he started. Amira looked at him stunned; as bad as it sounded, she hadn't pictured him to be a warm, sensitive, caring, loving person. Then again, she never imagined he'd save her life. The sound of soft, sweet music filled the air, probably coming from an old man trying to earn his last few pieces before calling it a night.

"Do you dance," she asked at once.

"Never," he replied stiffly. Amira gave a slight nod and returned to looking at the floor. Then, within a second, she stood up immediately. Stepping gracefully and making all sorts of movements with her arms, she swayed to the softness of the music. Zuko watched her with a slight smile on his face. Although he'd normally be against anything of this nature, something, just something had sparked an interest and delight in him. Perhaps it was the way she cared, but didn't all at the same time, or the way she was enthusiastic with such little effort put into being so. The way she contradicted herself so much was intriguing. He liked this … a lot. "What're you doing," he asked, a slight chuckle in his voice. Amira shook her head and continued stepping and swaying.

"It's a dance, an old one," she stated. Suddenly Zuko stood up and seized the wrist she'd had in the air. Their chests had now only been an inch apart, and their faces had been just a bit closer.

"You must know this song then," he whispered to her. Amira, mesmerized by his amber-coloured eyes, gave only a nod. A small smile twitched on his face for a reason unbeknownst to him at the time. Amira's eyes fastened themselves on his pale lips; she, herself, hadn't known why she'd done so, but every fibre in her being had been egging her on. She could feel her lips being drawn to his as if some magnetic force had commanded them to do so. Zuko's eyes focused too on her lips, and by now, he could feel her breath coat his lips gently; it was a new feeling to him, but a likable one. Closer and closer their lips came, brushing against each other for only a second as a cry had broken out several corners down. Amira and Zuko both jumped at the ear-piercing shriek. Then, just as precipitously as the shriek had been heard the lit lamps that surrounded the area had been extinguished by a sudden gust of wind. In the spur of the moment, two arms had fastened themselves around her. Thoughts swirled around in Amira's head; had the men returned? They couldn't have! How could they have followed her all the way here? Surely, they can't be _that_ good. Amira could feel her hair being tossed in all directions by the wind that had continuously been blowing. _Could it have been a sandstorm_, she wondered. Then, the hand that had fastened itself around her took hold of hers and led her off away from the square-like area. On and on they went, until finally, Zuko had pulled her into an alleyway, awaiting for some sort of explanation to this sudden gust of wind. An eerie howling of wind stirring past them, and Amira found herself cringing, holding onto Zuko tighter. The cold air had now stung against her skin.

Then, in another second, everything had stopped. Silence had fallen upon the entire city. Amira, slowly raising her head, looked up at Zuko who seemed to be listening intently to the silence as if to find something that would give identity to who or whatever had done this. "Lee," Amira began. Zuko immediately raised a finger to his lips, silencing her at once. Minutes passed and still nothing was heard. _Perhaps it simply was a sandstorm_, Amira wondered. Peeping around the corner, Zuko checked to see if they truly were alone. Strangely enough, nothing had popped or jumped out at all. They were sincerely alone. Zuko ceased his peeping and loosened his grip around Amira. Amira continued to gaze up at Zuko; she'd never recognized how beautifully imperfect he was. The way he did things, the cold ignorance he sometimes shared with her, the scar that occupied much of his left cheek, was perfect.

"I um, I guess we should go. It's late. No one would be crazy enough to come after you especially with that sandstorm," his voice rasped to her. Amira released her grip from around him as well a bit disappointed that their night together had been cut short. She watched as Zuko had attempted to lead the way following him. Neither spoke along the journey; the awkward silence seemed to have filled every street corner they'd turned or long alleyway they passed through. Finally, they'd arrived once more inside the teashop. Carefully closing up, still not talking one another, the teashop had been engulfed in a near darkness, the only source of light being a lamp lit from the back room which slivered through a crack in the door.

Looking back at Zuko, Amira felt an urge to touch him once more, to hold onto him. She didn't know what it was about his restless nature that made her feel so comfortable and that seemed to move her world into a serene and almost tranquil state. Perhaps it was the way that he was paranoid, just as she was, about people and their dealings. Perhaps it was because he knew what it was like to be an outcast, something she was very familiar with. He could feel her eyes watch him with every move he made. Although he was itching to turn toward her, he thought against it. He wasn't used to these feelings. He didn't even know what he was feeling. Something about her, though, had intrigued him. The way she seemed as if she depended on him for her own piece of sanity and comfort. It felt nice to be wanted, to be needed by someone when all his life he was pushed away by his own father. He was exiled, he wasn't needed by the fire nation, but now he was the necessity of a girl whose story had mimicked his. Finishing the sole duty of clearing off tables that Iroh had intentionally left this way so as to show no one had been home, Zuko attempted to make his way past her without any contact whatsoever. Amira, however, had something different planned. In an instant, Amira stood in front of Zuko blocking his way of getting to the back room. Zuko looked down at her as she stared up at him. "Thank you," was all Amira had managed to mutter out. Zuko gave her a confused look. "For tonight," she clarified. Zuko grew even more confused. They were caught in the middle of a giant sandstorm, what about tonight had been so enjoyable to her?

"We were caught in a sandstorm," Zuko mumbled his thoughts. She nodded, stepping closer to him. Zuko could now see her beautifully refined face reflected under the dim glow of the light. Hesitantly, he felt her place her hands on his chest. He hadn't known exactly why he'd allowed her to, but he seemed to enjoy her touch and the electrical surges it sent throughout his body. It was different, unlike anything else he'd experienced before. It reflected her, he sensed. She _was_ different, and he hadn't known why, but he could feel as if he'd grown fond of her. He felt her gaze fall upon his lips, and at this, out of instinct, his hands had found their way to her back. Amira's pores tightened as a cold rush had run through her body. Sliding her hands to his shoulders, she could feel his face coming closer to hers; his breath gently warmed the frigid icicles that were her lips. Then, in another second, their lips had succumbed to one another's. Slowly but meaningfully, their lips fused together. Amira had wrapped her arms around Zuko's neck, her hand gently grabbing onto his hair. Zuko, had fully wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her just as closely as he had during the sandstorm or whatever it was they'd encountered. The kiss had prolonged in a passionate way, leaving feelings unexplainable and new to each of them. Steadily, the kiss had picked up intensity, however managed to keep its pace slow. Amira's chest had now pasted itself onto Zuko's, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and mimicking it with her own. Slowly and reluctantly, their lips had drawn away from each other. Eyes opening lazily to stare into the other's followed this. Amira's hands had slowly slid their way down his arms until they'd met his hands. Unknown to him then, Zuko had instinctively intertwined his fingers with her own, and in a short second they led themselves into his bedroom. Zuko, having kicked away the blanket on the floor, turned toward Amira once more. A small smirk had played on her lips as she watched him. Sliding his hands up her arms and onto her neck with his thumbs resting on either sides of her cheeks, he picked up her face once more and pressed his lips against hers. Amira felt her way up to his arms. Their lips' intensity had increased with every second, and Zuko's hands had now left her face and wrapped themselves around her small waist. With her arms wrapped around his neck as well, she could feel them both sinking down onto something soft.

There, she could feel herself kneeling just above Zuko's knees as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Then, in one swift movement, Zuko had shifted his sitting position to a supine one with Amira just above him. She could feel Zuko's hands tug at her kimono, and at that moment, their kiss had broken for the first time since its inception. Slipping her lower lip under her teeth, she positioned herself to kneel just above his waist. In a second, her hands had found their way onto the bow of her kimono unravelling it quickly. Slowly, she opened her kimono allowing it to slip off her shoulders and fall onto the mattress. Zuko's amber eyes marvelled at how well her naked body reflected the moon light. Leaning back over to him, she slid one hand onto his face and their kissing had resumed. In a few minutes, Zuko's kimono had been tossed onto the floor along with hers. Positions upon positions had been changed and moans and whispers of satisfaction had escaped into the air; however, in another moment, it was all over. There Amira lay upon Zuko's sculpted and perspiring chest, under the blanket Zuko had originally kicked away. His porcelain skin now glistened under the moonlight. With his fingers tangled in her hair, Zuko rested his lips against her forehead. Both their eyes had begun to close, each being sung quietly to sleep by the mere presence of each other. With their breathings synchronized and their presence lulling the other to sleep, both finally found an escape in the world - each other, the only sanctuary they could run to without really running anywhere.


	5. Chapter 5

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 5 - Sealed By The Sun**

Amira had awoken slowly, lazily opening her eyes to the sunlight that had usually shimmered in. She, however, was not where she usually was. Looking around curiously at her new environment, she brought herself to a sitting position. She was still naked, but she lay on a grassy, twiggy, forest floor that seemed to have been a path leading to another place far beyond here. She looked around at all the tall trees with their leaves hanging just as high above her, only allowing some sunshine in. "Lee," she called out. An eerie silence was her only answer, and so, she rose up from her state on the ground and walked along the path, looking around at all the trees, bushes and flowers. It was a rich forest, one with many diverse flowers and bushes. She'd never wandered through a forest such as this before in her travels. It was beautiful, astonishing even. "Lee," she called out once more to the silence. Again, only silence answered her. Then, from the corner of her eye, she thought she could see a bush eerily rustle beside her as if someone had run past. "Hello," she called out. As much as she had tried to stop, her feet kept her moving forward; it was almost as if they were under a spell, one which had instructed her feet to walk to a destination unknown to her. The rustle came again, yet Amira's bewitched feet hadn't ceased their walking. "Hello," she called out to the silence once more; this time, however, instead of an eerie silent response - voices were heard up ahead, one threatening and one defiant. Nearing the end of the path, Amira could see that she'd made her way out of the forest-like grove. Although her initial feeling was to be relieved, the sight before her had left her in tears. Before her battled Zuko, bloodied and scarred from battle and Long, still standing strong. Both battled near a cliff, each trying at various points to push the other down. "Lee," was all she managed to croak. In a suddenness, the mere sound of his name had alerted Zuko, and he'd stopped. In one second, the vision of Zuko had disappeared, with a swing of his sword at Zuko, Long had turned him into dust.

Amira let out an ear-piercing scream; tears streamed down her face at what she'd caused. Then suddenly, Long had sprung at her, seized her by her arms struggling, shaking her. Amira shook her head fearfully. Then, in an instant, her eyes had flung open. She stared into the amber eyes that she'd grown to rest in. Still beneath the blankets, and still on his perspiring chest, Amira glanced around at her surroundings with the hope that everything was just as familiar as it was before she'd fallen into her slumber. She felt Zuko's hands slide to her tearstained cheeks. "Amira," he rasped to her. Amira's eyes glanced back over to him, bearing that terrified look that she'd possessed ever since she'd woken up. Zuko's eyes searched for some meaning behind this frightened appearance that her once serene face now held. "What's wrong," he continued on. Propping herself up on her forearms and then sitting up, she looked toward Zuko who had also brought himself to a sitting position, leaning against the wall. Amira's chest still heaved as the dream or nightmare played itself over and over again in her head. Suddenly a hand had grasped onto her arm, jumping out of the drowning pool that was her recent thoughts and now into reality, Amira looked back at Zuko who pulled her closer so that she now rested in his lap, her chest against his. Looking into his eyes, her lips quivered to a part.

"The man Long, he was there and you … you and he were fighting," her voice had cracked as her throat had tautened at the dream now vivid in her mind. Zuko's hands gracefully and soothingly ran themselves up and down her back. "H-He… won," she finally managed to stumble out. The vision of Zuko becoming a little more than air had induced tears to sting her eyes. Thoughts and more thoughts ran through Zuko's mind as he tried to decipher all the possible meanings behind this dream. Did she feel as if they were coming for her once more? _Were_ they coming for her once more? Couldn't he protect her, keep her safe? … Did he want to? Of course, he did … right? It had never occurred to Zuko why he felt the way he felt about this girl. He'd not understood it at all, and at times, it worried him. The lack of knowing what these emotions were had driven him mad. He didn't know why he cared so much about her or why he allowed her to do all that she had done. It was strange, but he felt as if he were called to protect her. As if by some way, _this_ was his obligation at the moment. He must help her. He must defend her. Unable to form words of comfort simply because it was not his nature, Zuko merely pulled her into his chest allowing her to bury her face in his neck as he soothingly stroked her back. The two stayed like that for more than two minutes; neither spoke, for neither knew what to say, what could make the situation better. The reality was she was being hunted, and having defended her at first, he was now being hunted as well, by a new face. They were both in danger, and no optimistic, 'We'll get through this', could hide that fact. They both knew it.

He could feel her shiver a bit as he ran his hands across her back to hold her tight. A small smile then played on his lips for a second at this. The way she reacted to his slightest touch or even the mere presence of him amused him. Her crying had slowly died down and picking her head up off of his shoulder, Amira looked up into his unfeeling amber eyes. Reaching for his lips, Amira merely brushed hers against his. Zuko, in turn, followed hers, mimicking her actions. He watched as her bottom lip slid itself under her teeth only to slip out slowly from its clutches. Zuko leaned in slightly once more only to receive another brush on the lips. "We should go," Amira whispered, her lips, every word she'd spoken, moving against his lips. Zuko, mesmerized by her lips, merely gave a slight nod while she engaged in her next course of action, grazing his jaw line so steadily with her lips and only placing two pecks of affection at intervals. Slowly, Amira rose up out of Zuko's clutches, letting his arms run down from their place on her back. Stepping off the mattress, Amira picked up her kimono and placed it around her shoulders, slipping her hands into both arm sockets. Zuko had too risen off the mattress and clutched at his kimono, throwing it around his shoulders as well. As he'd been about to reach for the sides of his kimono, a presence had situated herself behind him. Already dressed, Amira tugged at Zuko's arm to face her, and he did so obediently. Stepping very close to him and without a word, Amira slowly secured his kimono, looking back up at him after her task had been completed. Zuko looked down at her, his face as emotionless as ever. Her eyes shifted themselves between his lips and his eyes, unsure whether to kiss him or not. Although she'd greatly lusted for his lips, a small voice tugged her backwards. It whispered, "Don't", "traitor", and "danger". Her relationship with Zuko, whether it was a relationship or not, had greatly put him in danger, and Zuko's life, although she hadn't realized it, was dear to her. She'd in no way hinder a chance at him living. Involuntarily it was as if the mere existence of him, had pushed away all guilt of leaving, all insecurity about herself and her past. It was as if she was re-invented with confidence and sense of belonging when she was with him, but for what price?

She noted his lips moving towards hers in a steady and slow way, and just as she'd done before, steadily she'd avoided them. Gracefully walking out of the room, Amira had left the person she'd held dear to her standing by himself, curious as to why the sudden change of heart in her. Zuko's eyes narrowed, suspicious as to why she'd simply leave when last night and as it appeared, this morning, she'd wanted nothing more than … _him_. _Girls_, he simply thought. Still, he dismissed any further thoughts and proceeded to follow her lead. Outside Amira had already busied herself with taking orders. Zuko easily swept into the teashop, unnoticed and still bearing that emotionless and bothered look. He'd noticed, however, after several side-glances at her that Amira had looked quite pensive, as though her thoughts had been far away from her, and she mindlessly proceeded on. It was unusual for her especially. She'd always seemed to be in control of herself, or at least have some sense where she was. Still, Zuko pushed it out of his mind, as he watched his uncle near him suddenly. "So how was your night," his uncle asked nonchalantly. The air of coolness had suddenly thrown Zuko on alert. His eyes widened for a second at the question, and his brain racked itself for several answers that he could possibly use that wouldn't let on too much to how he really felt about his night with Amira.

"Fine," he mumbled as he piled teacups onto a tray and prepared to make his way outside to the customers awaiting their jasmine teas.

"Just fine," his uncle persisted; Zuko stopped in his tracks. _Had he known? Had he heard_, Zuko pondered to himself. Still, he left no trace that he'd been hiding something. Again, he simply mumbled his answer to his uncle.

"Yes, just fine," he stated; as he was about to make his way out, the door had swung open suddenly, and the tray had nearly been knocked off of Zuko's palm and crashed onto the floor. "Why don't you watch where you're going-" Zuko began loudly only to realize he'd been standing in front of Amira. Amira's cheeks turned a nasty scarlet colour as she directed her eyes away from Zuko once more. Zuko, externalising nothing, proceeded back out into the back room to the customers. Iroh watched both teenagers with a sly smirk on his face. Several hours had passed, and Amira and Zuko busied themselves around the teashop, without a glance at the other. Finally, the sun had begun to set behind the horizon, and night had begun to crawl into the sky. After dismissing himself and allowing the younger people to clean up, Iroh trudged on to bed. Just as she'd reached for a cup on the table, a hand had placed itself over hers. In a sudden, Amira had looked back at him. Amira glanced around the teashop before fully turning around and facing him. The two locked eyes immediately as though all the words needed to be said had been communicated in that stare. Amira could feel the warmth of Zuko's lips nearing hers. It sent a series of chills up and down her spine as she revisited the feeling of his lips crashing against hers. Something hadn't felt right though. The guilt and the vividness of her dream had come back to haunt her all of a sudden. She didn't want to be responsible for anything happening to him. She knew why they chased her, and she knew that if she were to stay here long enough they would find her and Zuko, and take no prisoners, but simply carry out their jobs as delivery men, delivering the runaway princess back to her father.

Zuko looked down at her, and in a raspy voice whispered, "What is it?" Amira looked up at him; her eyes melting into his amber ones as they stared unfeelingly yet meaningfully into hers. Amira had finally broken the stare, fixing her eyes on his chest. "What's wrong with you," he asked once more. Amira's eyes shifted almost immediately back up to him. Slowly, her hands had slid themselves onto his arms. Zuko positioned his hands onto her back, rubbing it just as slowly as he had done earlier. Amira sighed once more and brought herself closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Zuko watched her, bearing that same bored expression, but with the feeling of curiosity filling up his inside.

"I'm scared," she whispered to him, "I'm scared that I'm putting you in danger." Looking back up at him, she continued, "I care for you too much to put you in danger's way." Zuko's face still possessed that unfeeling look it always managed to keep despite the situation. Still, he continued to rub her back soothingly. Then, suddenly, a voice inside him had egged him to confess that everything she'd thought was truth was a lie. He wasn't in danger, she was, and gravely so. He was a firebender, not a tea maker. His name was Zuko, and not Lee. He wasn't just some other refugee; he was a banished prince on a mission to regain his honour. He wanted to tell her all of this, for she'd told him a great deal of truth, something he was sure wasn't exactly the easiest thing for her either. She'd made him feel different as if he wanted to be a better person. As if for a second, finding the avatar hadn't mattered as much and he was able to recognize exactly what _he'd_ wanted. He wanted Amira to feel safe, to feel comforted. He wouldn't wish the sense of paranoia that he'd suffered with for so long due to his past on anyone, especially not her. She was special to him in an odd way that he hadn't known. "Amira," his voice rasped to her once more. Amira looked up at him curiously, sliding her hands onto his chest. Zuko opened his mouth to speak once more, but just as he'd done so the couple had pushed against one another forcing distance between them. In the split of the second, Uncle Iroh had traipsed in, looking quite smug and clearing away two cups on a nearby table.

"Don't mind me," he stated, hopping back off to his quarters. Amira and Zuko stood a distance from each other. Zuko opened his mouth once more to speak, "Amira," he rasped to her. Amira had drawn closer, allowing her body to be wrapped in his arms. "I-" he began before being interrupted again this time by a series of raps on the door. Amira looked up at Zuko, frightened in her place; were they still hunting her? Zuko's grasp loosened from around her as he proceeded to make his way to the door. Amira, though, as if the realization that the fabrication of her dream may be coming true, hung onto his hand, disallowing any chance for her dream to come true. Zuko looked back at her and simply raised a finger to his lips before wriggling his hand out of her grasp. Amira stealthily crept toward the darkened part of the teashop, desperate to remain out of sight. As Zuko crept forward, he peered through a small crack in the wooden door at the stranger standing on their doorstep. He appeared to be a regular civilian carrying about a dozen scrolls in his bag and bearing one in his arms.

Zuko opened the door slightly and stared coldly at the trembling civilian. "Good-goodn-night, s-sir," the civilian spoke attempting to ignore the chattering of his teeth due to the cold. Zuko gave no reply, but his cold, bored, unfeeling stare. The man seemed to shiver once more, whether it was because of the cold or because of Zuko was unknown at the time. Continuing, the postal officer stated, "I-Is there a M-Mister Lee here?" Zuko's eyes narrowed.

"No, but he's dropping by later tonight," he stated. The postal man gave a slight nod and handed Zuko a scroll; bowing respectfully, the man shivered away down the street. Zuko closed the door disallowing anymore of the icy, cold breeze to sweep into the teashop. Unravelling the scroll in his hands, he held it in front of him, his eyes scanning the symbols briefly. Amira noticed his brow furrow from time to time as he scanned the contents of the scroll. Revealing herself from the shadows, she stepped out towards him, taking her place at his side. Placing a steady had on his arm, Amira induced a slight flinch out of Zuko as he directed his eyes towards her, rolling the scroll back into its original shape.

"What does it say," Amira asked. Zuko, quickly stowing the parchment under his arm, turned to her and shook his head.

"Nothing that should concern you," he stated coldly, while returning to the backroom. Amira stood there confused at his recent words. First, it seemed as if he'd had something important to share, but now … it seemed as if none of that had happened. Shaking all thoughts from her head, she rested herself at a table, gazing out of a crack in the boarded window at the slipper of moonlight that illuminated the street. Something, however, seemed very familiar about this moonlight. It was then that her mind had once more slipped back to several years prior to this moment.

* * *

><p>"Amira, do you trust me," a boy's voice called out as Amira tugged her hood closer to her.<p>

"I can't even see you," Amira called back, looking around for the boy she was once following. Suddenly, a pair of hands had placed themselves over her eyes from behind.

"You don't need to see me to trust me," he whispered to her. A chill had run down her spine as a small smirk had played on her lips. Letting his hands slide from her face, allowing one to grab hold of one of her hands, the young boy smiled at her a most comforting and trusting smile. Amira let out a small sigh and gave him a confident smile back. "Come on, then," he whispered almost as the confidence radiating off her smile had verbally offered him her assurance. Amira gave a slight glance back, she could barely see the palace at this point. Looking forward once more, a smile had come over her. There was no greater feeling than this. "Alright, you've got to close your eyes first. We're getting near," he told Amira. Amira did as she was told.

"Will you at least tell me where we're going," she asked, holding onto his hand a bit tighter.

"You'll see! I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise for you," he responded. Several minutes had past with Amira cautiously making her way across the snow lain ground of the North Pole. Amira could feel a greater sense of cold as they'd continued to walk and the strong sense of sea water had induced her to crinkle her nose. Just as she'd opened her mouth to inquire again as to where they were destined, the young boy's hand had left her own; however, a tighter grasp had located itself around her waist from behind. "Open your eyes," his voice whispered in her ear. Amira's eyes lazily batted themselves opened, and what she'd seen next had moved her almost to tears. There they were standing on what seemed to be the tip of a snow-laden escarpment gazing out at the beautiful pink and yellow sky. This common feature had been so very uncommon to Amira; the palace was located several miles from this escarpment and was surrounded by towering trees, making it impossible to enjoy nature's beauty.

"This is beautiful, Kota," she breathed, awe-struck by the magnificence of this moment. A small smile had come over Kota's face; _it's nice to see her happy_, he thought to himself. Kota had always been banned from the premises of the palace due to the fact that he'd been believed to have lured Amira into becoming a radical. Seating herself on the edge of the escarpment, allowing her feet to dangle off the edge of it, Amira closed her eyes, allowing the cool, wintry air to thrash her hair about as the open sea lay just beneath them. Kota seated himself beside her, taking hold of her hand once more. Amira's eyes opened themselves once more and focused on the great brown eyes of Kota. Resting her head on his shoulder, she breathed in a strong sense of the sea air, but an even stronger and more intoxicating sense of serenity and freedom - something that she'd not smelt much less tasted before, something that in this one moment had been given to her and treasured by her as it was a great gift by a boy that had grown up not nearly as esteemed and wealthy as she was, and something that she would be eternally grateful to this young man for. "Kota," she began in an attempt to express her gratitude, but was cut off by his voice.

"Amira," he whispered to her; looking up into his big, brown eyes once more, Amira listened carefully. "I need you to know something," he continued. Amira drew herself closer to him, hanging on his every word. "All this … this mini-adventure that I've taken you on is my way of somewhat proposing to you," he whispered. Amira's spine had drawn her upright as tears filled her tear-ducts.

"But-but Kota," she tried at speech but failed. Kota shook his head and released his grip on her hand; now, he'd wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him.

"I know. You're two years short of marriage, but this is what my proposition entails … if you're willing to listen," he whispered. Amira contemplated on his words for a second, and then looked up at him, her eyes still swimming in her tears, and gave him a small nod. A charming smile had broken out onto his face as he helped Amira and himself to a standing position. Taking hold of both her hands, and holding them between both their bodies, he looked down at her hands and then back up into her eyes. "Amira," he began, "I know it's too soon for any of this to happen or to even consider, but … I love you, and I don't care about what any law or rule or parental figure may say. I want to be with you for the rest of my life; I want to save you from the life of solitude and loneliness that you've been living, because you deserve so much more than that." He'd paused for a second and brought her hands to his lips, kissing both lovingly and warmly. Tear after tear had gushed out of Amira's eyes. "In two years, we will be able to wed, but for now," he paused again to take a look at the pink and yellow sky that brought Amira her sense of freedom before continuing, "I make you this promise. When those two years have passed and the day identical to this has arisen, I want you to run away with me. We can catch a boat and drift to furthest ends of the world together." Amira's body shook a bit, overwhelmed with joy and anxiety. Looking up at him, she nodded. Placing both hands on her cheeks, Kota delivered a small peck to her lips before stating once more, "This sunset, then, Amira shall be the binding of our promise." Amira nodded once more. "That is … if you accept," Kota asked, with his hands still resting on either of her cheeks; Amira nodded again, and at this, Kota gave a small chuckle, "Are you just going to nod the rest of the way back or …" Amira chuckled a bit, returning a kiss to his lips.

"I'd be crazy to disobey the law, but I'd be insane to deny love," she whispered to him. At this, Kota's broad smile had turned into a meaningful smirk. The two embraced as the cold, wintry and sea-salted air blew past them, inducing neither a shiver nor a shudder from either as the sense of need emanating off of each for each other had warmed them enough.

Nights turned into days, days into weeks and weeks into months. Several had passed, and finally, Amira had reached her boiling point. She couldn't take the seclusion, the isolation. She wanted to be with Kota, she wanted to be freed of the prison palace she'd lived in. She needed to leave, and she needed to leave now. Taking nothing with her but a simple black cloak, she stole out of her window, careful not to make a sound. She was nearly fourteen now, and things still hadn't shown a sign of improving; _this was the right thing to do_, she assured herself. She needed to do this. Making her way out of the gates, sneaking past guards and careful to cover up any footprints, she'd made her way to the market. The road was a sliver of moonlight. She continued on down this sliver, past the market to the docks. A local fisherman had fallen asleep just on the pier beside his boat with his bushel load of fish beside him. Seating herself in the fishing boat, Amira pushed and pulled the water, allowing her to sail forward. Glancing back at the North Pole, which steadily became smaller and smaller every five minutes or so, a tear had slipped from her eye, not for the fact that she'd left a dynasty behind, but because she'd left something far more valuable behind … her love - her Kota.

* * *

><p>Suddenly the clatter of a spilt teacup had shaken her out of her recent daydream. Without her knowing, she'd tipped over the teacup, she hadn't been conscious had been set on the table for her. Rising from her place, she'd politely pushed the chair into its placed and bended all the spilt tea back into the cup before disposing of it. Making her way into Zuko's quarters once more, she'd taken note that there was no sign of the scroll; however, there was a considerably large space beside Zuko, no doubt set aside for her. Removing her shoes, Amira occupied the space set out for her. Turning her back to him, Amira closed her eyes, hoping to push all recent thoughts and guilt away, and perhaps sleep soundly even dreamlessly tonight.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 6 - Revelations**

Amira shuddered as the cold air had blown in through the window; despite all her attempts at blocking everything out of her mind, she was still unable to sleep. Opening her eyes, however, she'd discovered it was morning; she'd also discovered she'd been alone in bed. Turning her back to the door, she hugged the blanket even closer to her as she tried to keep away the cold in hopes of finding some sleep. Voices from the neighbouring room, however, had prevented her from doing so. She'd originally thought it was a customer requesting to state a complaint directly to the tea brewer about, perhaps (and more than likely) the service. As she'd listened keenly, though, she'd heard the distinct mention of her name. "Does Amira know," she heard Uncle Iroh ask in an unusually solemn and hushed voice.

"It does not concern her," a cold, completely recognizable voice replied. Amira raised an eyebrow. _Didn't concern me, eh_, she wondered to herself. _Well, it certainly does now_, she thought once more, a smirk protruding onto her face. Silence had fallen upon the room outside and Amira wondered whether or not she'd thought aloud or not. In seconds the door leading to the teashop had closed, and at this, Amira had taken it upon herself to rise up out of bed in hopes of concerning herself with what, "did not concern her". Having checked whether another presence had graced the area or not, Amira strolled outside into the teashop. Stepping out of the backroom, a hand had touched hers in an immediate second. Looking around in an expectancy to see either Zuko or Iroh, Amira jumped a bit as neither of their faces appeared in front of her. It was a rather old man, one with a long, greying moustache that seemed to blend right into his rather long beard. "May I help you, sir," Amira asked almost breathlessly. Instead of the expected request for tea, the elderly man surprised Amira once more as he'd taken hold of her arm and pulled her near enough for a message to be whispered into her ear. "The ones you think you know are not who they appear to be," the old man said cryptically. Amira's brow furrowed. Those who she knew? Whatever could the old man be speaking about. "They know who you are Princess Amira, but you may not be the only runaway heir to a throne in this teashop," he whispered once more. Amira's eyes widened at this statement. How did the old man know who she was? Was she being spied on? Who were these '_they'_ people he mentioned? Nothing made sense. _Perhaps he's just crazy_, she thought to herself. _Right, right! Just cryptic and senile, that's all_. Amira withdrew her arm, and in seconds, without even a courteous bow, the old man had departed from the teashop.

Amira's eyes scanned the teashop quickly; perhaps trying to find the other runaway heir that may have stumbled into the teashop at that moment. All the customers ever to step foot into the teashop looked regal, however, none bore that paranoid look as if to check if anyone had noticed them yet. In fact, the only people in the teashop at the time were Zuko, who'd been arguing with a departing customer, and Iroh who'd attempted to clean up that mess. Amira had shaken all thoughts from her head and continued on with her tasks at hand. Perhaps the old man truly was cryptic and senile. He didn't know her. He'd probably just thought she _looked_ like a princess. It wasn't too long before another hand had taken hold of hers. This hold, however, was an accustomed hold. One that she'd found serenity in and grown to rest in. Slowly she turned toward Zuko who had been the only other person in the teashop besides herself, as Iroh announced he would be gone for most of today and left without giving a proper reason. "We need to talk," was all Zuko spoke to her. Amira raised one eyebrow. Him, too? What was with all of this mystery?

"About what," she asked just as sullenly as Zuko had questioned. Zuko's grip on her hand had loosened considerably, and her hand was now freely slipping from his and sliding its way onto her side once more.

"There are … things you need to know," he spoke mysteriously once more.

"Lee, what are you talking about," she asked annoyed. She had had it with all this cryptic language and mysterious messages.

"That scroll I received yesterday … it was -"Amira had leaned forward so suddenly she'd almost knocked into Zuko himself at the mere mention of the scroll she was "not to be concerned with". Zuko would have continued his speech had it not been for an interruption by a mass group of customers lining up at the counter, readily awaiting their orders to be taken. This was expected, though, large amounts of people were known for flocking into _The Jasmine Dragon_, as Iroh decided to name it. At this moment all essence of conversation and other activities were to be abandoned. Once the flocking had started there was no way it was to finish immediately. Hours passed and Uncle still hadn't returned from his voyage to where he had ventured. Amira hadn't bothered to question Zuko anymore than she needed to. He appeared to be on-edge more so than regular, which could have been thought of as impossible up until this moment. During the course of the day, despite her attempts at reasoning it out, the old man's words wrapped themselves around her thoughts. They seemed to devour her entire thinking process during the day. She couldn't take this; if someone she was close to was indeed deceiving her, where would she stay? How safe would safe be? Having seen the customers in the shop lose their mass numbers, Amira quietly slipped back into Zuko's quarters pacing at first and finally deciding upon her course of action. She needed to escape once more. She gazed out of the open window at the magnificent orange colour the sky had become. A sense of familiarity filled her up, and in an instant, she'd shut her eyes. Guilt and confusion mixed inside her. These feelings, the mixture of everything was overwhelming. She needed to escape, if only for now. In a brash and sudden movement, she'd thrown her black cloak over her and escaped through the window careful not to make a sound. She slipped off through the shadows down to the place where she'd been able to find the most peace in this busy city.

The sun had almost completely set now, and the light reflected off the pool so beautifully, just as they'd done the time before with Zuko. Amira made her way over to the edge of the pool. The cool breeze lightly coated her face as she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kota," she whispered out into the quiet. Reopening her eyes, she glanced behind her. No one was there. Heaving a small sigh, she bended the water into dousing the lanterns nearby. Nothing illuminated the pool except for a small slipper of the moon. Amira glanced around at her surroundings once more before finding her core and slowly bending the water out of the pool. Up it went, and as she guided it, changed course as though it were flowing through midair. She thought of how much Kota would be surprised at the progression of her bending. A small smile had broken out on her face as she imagined showing him her 'talent'. Then, just as kindly as the thought had come to her, it slipped away and was avenged by a nastier, bitter thought. The thought of her leaving, the guilt she'd felt washed over her once more. The cooling air of the breeze was familiar to her too. She was sure tonight was the night they were to be wed, and at this, a sudden hatred for herself stirred up. The water splashed on the floor. How could she leave him? How could she so selfishly leave everything behind? She only had one more year to endure!

_I had to leave_, she tried to justify her actions to herself. _One can only take so much seclusion, so much isolation._ She tried bending the water in the pool once more in order to draw a sense of calm back into her. Nothing worked. Imagine what Kota must've felt. Your promise, that which was sealed by the sun, was broken by the moon. _Work, you stupid water! Bend_, she persisted. Ignoring all feelings of guilt. Just then, two hands had taken hold of hers from behind. Amira jumped instantly, and looked back in fear that it might've been the men trying to capture her once more. As she'd begun to make out the person's face, however, a sense of calm had washed over her once more. "Need help," his raspy voice asked. A small smile had appeared on Amira's face for an instant none too long. She turned back to the pool, Zuko still in possession of her hands. Slowly, he guided them, side to side at first, and the water had begun to rise greatly. Amira was astonished; she'd never been able to master anything like that.

"Lee," she said breathlessly. "Shh," he whispered to her, continuing the swaying of her hands, while he stepped closer to her a smile appearing on his face. The water rose higher and higher taking on many shapes as it continued to be bent. Then gracefully, it settled back down into the pool. Zuko released her hands, and Amira stood in awe. Turning back towards him, she glanced up at his face. "How did you …" her voice trailed off. Never before was she able to accomplish anything of that nature.

"Uncle taught it to me. He worked with the water benders some time before," Zuko stated. Amira smiled up at him.

"You're a bender, aren't you," she asked. The small smile on Zuko's face disappeared. He looked down at their feet. "I've noticed you. You have this fire inside of you. The way you strike things when you're angry, but also, the way you gracefully move across an area. Your stance itself is enough to indicate some type of bending ability," she continued. Zuko's eyes remained fixed to the ground. Should he tell her? He'd contemplated this moment for a long time, but what if she misunderstood? For so long he hadn't believed the Fire Nation to have hurt as many people as it did. Venturing out in hopes of finding the Avatar, he'd discovered this to be untrue. Turning his gaze from the cobblestone ground to her eyes, Zuko heaved a deep sigh.

"There's something you need to-" he began before being interrupted once more by a cackling laugh.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the illusive Princess Amira," the familiar voice stated. Amira's heart had stopped, and in an instant, Zuko took a stand in front of her, keeping her behind him. The streets were pitch black, for the moon was now hidden behind a neighbouring cloud. Amira clutched onto Zuko's kimono, frightened. "He won't save you," the man's maniacal laughter sounded again. Then, in an instant, the clutch on his shirt was gone.

"Amira," Zuko shouted, but only muffled sounds were emitted from deep within a corridor. Zuko raced off towards the sound only to be tripped by an invisible object. Boiling with anger, Zuko rose from his position on the ground. "Show yourself," he shouted out angrily; his hands balled up into fists. The man's laughter rang out through the air once more as the voice of Amira rang through the air with several instances of 'Let go of me!'. "Amira," he called out again. Silence answered. It was only then that at the moment the moonlight had shone through the cloud, illuminating the square-like area Zuko had located Long and struck at him only to miss.

"Foolish boy, do you honestly think you could beat me this time? I know your secret, and I know exactly what you don't want her to know. Yes, I think now it will be a fair fight," Long stated with a menacing smile on his half-burnt face. Zuko's eyes, now glaring in anger, glanced around the area for any sign of Amira. There was none. "Perhaps I'll strike you a deal, seeing as you are of some diplomatic importance. Leave now and neither you nor Amira get hurt," Long growled. Zuko's eyes narrowed even further as his nails now made half moon shapes in his palm from the balling up of his fists. An ear-piercing shriek sounded from the alley. Zuko's heart pounded against his chest. "The little brat's put us on a hunt for far too long. We're bringing her home dead or alive," Long snarled under his breath. At this, Zuko had seemed to lose it. He struck fiercely at Long, some strikes he'd dodged, others had impacted him greatly. The two duelled fiercely, and after a moment, another shriek was emitted into the air. Zuko's stance had weakened at this. The sound of her shriek, of any implication that she may have been in danger or in pain had desolated all plans of attack, all will to fight. Long ceased his opportunity, delivering a proper blow to Zuko's face, sending the weakened fighter to his back. There, Long laughed another maniacal laugh. "I'll kiss your girlfriend goodbye for you," he snarled deviously as he walked away in triumph. Zuko's temper boiled. The fire inside him burned. In an instant, Zuko had swept up to his feet, flames dancing all around him. At this Long had paused in his tracks, his eyes widened in shock and fear.

Zuko let out an angry shout and directed all flames towards him. Long tried to out run it, but the flames were far faster. They slipped under his feet, burning his soles and causing him to fall to the floor in agonizing pain. Amira, from the alleyway, gagged with the sleeve of the elder man, watched unbelievingly at the sight. How? How could … no, she was seeing things. Zuko wasn't a fire bender. He just wasn't! He couldn't be! He was anything but a fire bender, at least, that's what she'd thought. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him continue to rain flames down beside Long, keeping him terribly afraid, and therefore vulnerable to his bidding. "Leave this place," Zuko shouted. "Never return." Long's eyes narrowed; despite his fear, Long was not one to go down without a fight.

"And who instructs this of me? A mere boy," he asked in a disgusted tone. The flames around him grew to twice their size.

"No. The Prince of the Fire Nation, Prince Zuko, decrees so," Zuko replied. Long's fear was now evident in his trembling. "Leave," Zuko repeated once more. Long, staggering to his feet, only to slip down again due to the burning, scurried away down the street followed closely by Amira's gagger. Zuko's chest heaved as he watched Amira's enemies flee down the street howling in pain and fear. The flames had died down as did Zuko's breathing; it was now of a calmer type. Zuko spun around on his heel in an immediate search for Amira. As he had done so however, he'd realized his search had come to an end, for standing quite a distance away from him was an angered Amira. No words could be said; neither had chosen to voice any, anyways. Zuko approached Amira cautiously. Amira, too shocked and angry to move, simply glared at the heroic figure.

"Amira," he whispered, reaching out to touch her hand. Amira withdrew her hand immediately, staring up into his face disbelievingly. "I was only trying to defend you," he whispered again. Again, Amira did nothing but stare up into his face. At this Zuko had grown angry. "I just saved you! What did you want me to do? Sit there and let him take you away," he asked angrily, reaching out to grab at her arms. Amira shook his grip off of her.

"Get off of me," she screamed, drawing further away from Zuko. "Don't ever touch me again," she breathed to him threateningly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Away she ran from Zuko, down the cobblestone street into the darkest alley she could find. How could he? How could he not tell her who he really was? She'd told _him_ everything about _her._ Why couldn't he do the same? Her body shook as the feeling of heartbreak had come over her. He was not who she thought him to be … he was worse. She drew her cloak closer to her as she stared up at the slipper of the moon. She felt as if a gaping hole was in the middle of her stomach; everyone could see through her. She'd allowed herself to become so vulnerable, to lower her defences so much only to get hurt, only to be deceived by someone she cared for greatly, and she was sure that the severity of the pain of going back to the prison she'd escaped from or even the pain of dying couldn't be any worse than the pain of this recent revelation.


	7. Chapter 7

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 7 - Resolutions**

Zuko still hadn't turned around. The anger he'd stirred up inside himself was now at its peak. He wasn't sure exactly what he was angry at though. Perhaps it was himself for allowing his fire-bending and biggest secret to escape; perhaps it was for being inconsiderate as to what the consequences of his actions may be on Amira, or perhaps it was at Amira herself. He saved her, didn't he? She should be thanking him, rewarding him, not running away from him! He didn't deserve that, did he? He did his best to save her. He did all he could. Tears stung his eyes as he pictured the thought of Amira being carried away by Long as he sat there unwilling to fire-bend so as to keep his secret and "spare her feelings" if Amira found out who he was. He would've told her who he was. Sure, he would've. Perhaps in time, yes, slowly; he' d brought the blame right around to himself once more. How could he let his emotions fuel him in such a negative way? Now, not only did Long and his company know who Zuko was, but Amira did, and for that she ran. The only thing that had made Zuko feel wanted, needed, had abandoned him _because of_ _him_. With his hands clenched tight into fists, he began his journey back to the teashop. Nearly kicking down the door, Zuko trudged his way to his quarters, slamming the sliding door shut.

Without even inquiring upon his uncle's return, Zuko had confined himself to his room. Kicking off his shoes, he let out a grunt of frustration as anger washed over him and the recent occurrence played itself over and over in his mind. How could he be so stupid? How could she be so ignorant? After all that talk and feeling about finally finding someone that was like her, someone that was an outcast, after finally feeling needed, she runs away from him? Just like that? Slamming his fists against the boarded wall, he could feel his blood boil inside of him. Sweat trickled off his forehead. The room had suddenly grown extremely hot. Zuko pressed his forehead against the wall, still keeping his fists jammed to it. Closing his eyes he envisioned her again. Her long, beautiful, brown hair, and her bright, amethyst eyes still shining brighter than any star even under that darkened cloak. He watched as her smile shone his way; the smile he never once returned. He remembered their night; the way the moonlight reflected off her in a most blinding and angelic way. All that, though, was gone within the next recollection. He saw her shoot him a disgusted look and then flee from his presence. Zuko's eyes flashed open as the wave of anger induced him to emit flames from his hands. Unable to control it this time, he was about to turn back with an attempt to find some way to stop this; he was stopped, however, with a hand placed on his shoulder. This immediately reduced the flames to nothing.

Zuko's chest rose and fell quickly as tears stung his eyes. He could feel the ends of his hair teeming with sweat. "Control, Zuko," Uncle's calming voice whispered to his nephew. Zuko shook off his hand off. Advice? He didn't need advice right now; that was certainly the last thing he wanted. He wanted her back; no, he wanted to forget her. He didn't know what he wanted! He just needed to be alone without any questions, any comments … just alone. He needed time to dwell, time to forget, time to just reflect on everything and somehow forget about it later on. Striding out towards the door leading out to the teashop, he was stopped once more when a cold question was fired at him. "Zuko, where is Amira," Uncle asked curiously. Zuko stopped dead in his tracks simply turning his head in the direction of his uncle without truly looking at him, and proceeding out through the door in the next second. He didn't know where he was going - perhaps back out into the street, perhaps out to the place where the recent revelation had transpired. He just needed to be gone, away from everyone else for a while. Zuko sighed as he looked up and down the vacant and eerie street; finally he'd decided to sit right outside the teashop. After all, where else would he go? Burying his head in his hands as he brought his knees into his chest, Zuko let out a deep sigh, preparing to brave the coldness of not only the night, but the circumstance-inspired atmosphere.

Iroh watched as Zuko skulked, and he, too, gave a small sigh before turning back to bed. Perhaps he would let Zuko sit it out for a while; there was no use pushing him to talk if he didn't want to. Zuko was always intelligent in the way of ultimately figuring out what was best for him; even if it required him losing his way to find his way back.

* * *

><p>Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and her cheeks were wet with those already spilt. Her legs were sore, and she was sure that the bottoms of her shoes must have worn out by now. Having concluded her sprint down the long expanse of stone filled streets, she finally pulled herself into an alleyway, sinking down the wall and hugging her knees to her chest. How could he be the heir of the Fire Lord? How could he be a fire-bender? How could he blatantly <em>lie<em> to her? Her tears cascaded down her cheeks in a seemingly never-ending way. Staring up at the cloudy night sky, she pushed all thoughts away. She didn't want to think about him or the recent revelation or anything. She just wanted to disappear, to feel completely numb to everything happening around her, but would it help? Would deafening, blinding or numbing the ability to feel really solve this? She didn't know; she didn't want to know. She just wanted him, Zuko or Lee, whichever he was, but how could she? He was a fire-bender, all they brought about was destruction and fear. The city of Ba Sing Se was a grand example of that.

The city was so fearful that it was as if the people were ignorant to the war, so as blatantly disallow the truth that the war was indeed upon them, through the city gates. Amira sighed; how they influenced so many along with their thoughts and actions was incredible. How could such a people do this? People that once lived in harmony with the rest of the world. How can _one man_ acquire such a thirst and lust for power and conquer? That man being the Fire Lord, himself; otherwise known as Zuko's father. Her mind was unable to fully wrap or fathom the thought that someone she'd grown so fond on, someone she'd trusted, someone she'd … _loved_ belonging to a culture of people so rash and cruel. Her thoughts were interrupted by a certain scurrying over by a nearby box. Amira immediately startled her position into an upright one. Looking over at she'd thought she'd seen a white lemur, however, those were known to be extinct. _I'm losing my mind_, she thought, picking herself up and hugging her cloak closer. Wandering further down the alleyway and into an empty street, Amira once more allowed her thoughts to fill her head. Although it pained her, she couldn't see any way around it at the moment.

Despite her immense distrust and growing dislike of Zuko at the moment, part of her was still soothed by the mere thought of him. Whether she liked it or not, he was just like her. He was the beacon of familiarity that she clung to; he was her serenity, her sense of peace. She knew it. He must've known it too. Guilt had taken over now. Should she truly have run from him? Despite whatever he may be, he never intentionally hurt her; no, in fact, he'd saved her from her recent peril. How did she repay him, though? By running away. _No, no, no! He lied to you, Amira … about himself, about his life, even about his name. What would've stopped him from keeping it up longer had Long or his company not threatened you? Nothing._ _Who says he wouldn't have used his fire bending on you at one point,_ her mind asked her heart. Me, her heart replied. She was sure her mind had known it too (even behind its defiant justifications), but there was something about Zuko. He was different from the others; at least as the stories she'd heard went. Something about him, the way he looked at her even behind his indifferent glare, told her that she meant something to him - that perhaps the little runaway-princess had made him feel something he was deprived of and greatly needed, and perhaps it was exactly that. The needing to be needed was what he found in her.

Her feet had finally given out from under her. She was unconscious that she'd continued her walking. Strange how a mindful of thoughts could make one mindless. Her knees hit the cold and rock-laden street. Biting her lip in pain, she picked herself once more only to notice a rip along the side of her kimono (perhaps as a result of her running). Attempting to somehow dust off an already dirt-stained kimono, Amira's actions were stalled at the sound of rough, familiar voices. Immediately pulling herself into the shadowy corner of the street, Amira watched as the two men she'd just recently escaped from hurried down the street. "We must tell someone," the elder said, frantically. The other man grunted in pain, perhaps indicating he'd agreed. "Everyone," the man grunted once more out of pain. "Everyone will know of them." Falling to his knees, Amira held her breath, thinking that even the slightest noise would've given her location away. Long, however, picked himself up, after pushing the elderly man's attempt at helping him up away. The two continued down the street; Amira let out a small sigh as she watched them disappear into but little dots and then finally disappear. Amira's thoughts became immersed in the recent conversation she'd overheard. _Them? Could he mean Zuko and his uncle? If the authorities ever found out, and the people… _Amira's breath was involuntarily held again as several thoughts as to what may become of Zuko and his Uncle filled her mind. Would he stop them? Of course … wouldn't she? They've been nothing but nice to her during her boarding time with them, but was it worth it? Was it worth protecting two of the world's largest criminals? How long would it be before they turned on _her_? Amira clenched her fists as thoughts of Zuko filled her head again, this time bringing not serenity, but confusion and thus frustration. Why did he have to do this to her? Why did she have to be involved with him? This was all his fault! If he'd never found her, she'd had never known him, and her mind wouldn't be in the state that it was now.

Continuing on ahead and proceeding into another alleyway, Amira sank to the floor, holding her cloak even tighter to her. She hadn't the slightest clue what she was going to do. Run, as she always had? Inform two, apparently well renowned and established figures of the Fire Nation, of Long's plans? Or stay in Ba Sing Se and become immersed in the city life as these people had, walking around with nothing on their minds except the ways down the streets and the food one was to eat? A yawn had struck her suddenly, and it was then, that she'd realized she was still human, capable of not only thoughts (those of which, sometimes she'd wished were not hers or were lessened greatly so as to not take up her entire mental capacity), but involuntary actions. A simple and perhaps trivial realization, but perhaps one that may inspire her choice of action in her days to come. _For now though_, she thought to herself, _before any course of involuntary plans and actions are carried through or thought of being carried through at that matter, perhaps sleep would be best. _Withdrawing her cloak from around her, she bundled it up in a pillow-like fashion laying her head on it. Curling herself up against the unusually cold night, Amira attempted to sleep, hopeful to escape the pains she'd faced not only bodily and emotionally but her ever present thoughts and worries, those of which inspired a new pain to her - the pain of decisions and consequences and how close each were intertwined with another. Once more she wished for another dreamless night, for perhaps a blank mind was the most peaceful.


	8. Chapter 8

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 8 - Fate**

He'd finally found her; he debated previously on whether going after her or not was the best choice, and after several hours of deliberation he'd finally decided. He approached her fragile figure slowly, careful not to wake the graceful sleeper. His eyes narrowed slightly as his vision truly fixed on this creature. Despite what he'd felt about her previously, after all that she'd done to him, he loved her. Even though he was sure she would not come back, not immediately that is, he wouldn't leave her to freeze to death. Withdrawing the cloak from around himself, he'd laid it on her, watching her violent shivering stop immediately. Regardless of what she may have done to him, he felt something for her, whether he wanted to or not. It was almost as if it were instinctive.

* * *

><p>Amira awoke under the warmth of a delightfully smelling cloak. Her eyes lazily opened as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Having looked down at the rather new (or it appeared as if it were for that matter) cloak, her mind staged several scenarios. She hadn't heard footsteps, nor had she felt as if someone was watching her. Although whoever the stranger may have been was friendly, she didn't like the feeling that this stranger was watching her every movement. That this stranger could creep so close to her without even giving the slightest clue as to his presence made her a bit uneasy. This stranger had an eerie aura about him … friendly and kind, but eerie and frankly creepy. Amira dismissed all thoughts as the sound of her stomach growling seemed to be the loudest cry filling her ears. <em>Food<em>, she thought to herself. Gathering up her own cloak and throwing it around her shoulders, Amira embarked on her mission for food, leaving behind the other cloak sure that she would return to this location. Amira moved along the darkest corners of the streets and navigated her way through several crowds of people. She did her best not to stand out in the crowd while she moved from street corner to street corner or while she politely helped herself to the many kiosks surrounding the street. She could smell the wonderful scent of Jasmine tea brewing in the distance. She must've been only about a corner or two away from the tea shop. Suddenly her stomach lurched unsettlingly as she recalled the conversation she'd overheard previously. Her mind became clouded with thoughts, millions of voices speaking to her all at the same time; neither reaching a conclusion and adding more and more questions to the mass amount already instituted there.

Her head spun as she tried desperately to separate these voices while keeping her composure in public as well as avoiding the eye of everyone who passed her way. Her head felt as if it could've split right open then and there. She hadn't known what her decision may have been, but she was sure that she had to make one rather fast. She could not let this go, it seemed. Something in her would not just let her forget this, let her leave, let her do as she would normally do and run. Something, instinctively told her to find them, to find Zuko, to … tell him everything she felt. The anger she felt because of the withheld secret and what it could've possibly meant in terms of her safety; the guilt that had washed over her as she thought about the way he defended her with his own body while she repaid him by simply running away, and finally, what she was unsure of from the very first meeting the two shared … the feeling of love and belonging that he brought out in her. Her mind interjected once more, however, (she hadn't realized that she'd reached her previous location (the alleyway) until she'd placed the warm cloak in her lap) what if it were a trap? What if all this thinking, all this revelation was planned? What if they'd intentionally revealed their secret so as to inspire Amira's thoughtful mind to instil a sense of compassion towards them and therefore leading her to her demise? They were, after all, Fire Nation. They were cunning, devious, and would attain exactly what they wanted at any lengths, at any costs, regardless of who or what gets in their way. Taking a bite of the piece of bread she'd pocketed from a kiosk nearby while the owner served many of his customers, Amira closed her eyes as she felt the bit hit the bottom of her stomach.

She'd never known the feeling of food hitting an empty stomach to be so tranquilizing or fulfilling; however, she'd definitely known now. It was as if the silent _pang_ had muted all thoughts. She was sure several scenarios and decisions were being made and re-made in her mind, thought about and rethought over and over again, but it was as if she wasn't conscious of it. It was as if she didn't care fully anymore. All that mattered at the moment was filling an empty stomach and mustering up enough strength to deal with the thought-provoking situation she'd found herself in. Finally fitting the last piece of bread into her mouth, Amira rested against the alley wall running her hands up and down the soft cloak that lay in her lap. Her eyes wandering down at the cloak had discovered something unusual in an instant. This cloak was no ordinary cloak as it appeared to have something included in one of its pockets. She supposed in the numbing cold and half-alertness of her mind, she'd been completely oblivious to it. As she turned over the cloak and searched in a bulging pocket, she'd noticed it to be a scroll. Every voice in her mind had silenced once more. Untying the neat knot used to fasten the scroll together, Amira unravelled the scroll, her eyes scanning the parchment in an instant then travelling back to the top so as to taken in the message. Her heart sank lower and lower as her reading progressed.

_Residents of The Jasmine Dragon,_

_I extend my deepest apologies for the rest of the letter as the formalities end here. Be weary that this letter is not addressed to all the inhabitants of the teashop, however many stray rats you take in, but to a lone stray … a boy named Lee. According to my advisors, my daughter Princess Amira is boarding with or near you. I'm a reasonable Chief and understand that teashop dwellers are hard working people who do not earn enough as they should, which is why I offer this. In exchange for my daughter, I will award you any amount of money you so choose to have. Then, you may return to your lone teashop and build on your fortune, or use it however you see fit. If you choose to be uncooperative, however, I'm afraid you have to understand that I'm a father as well as a Chief. I would do _anything _to get my daughter back however way my men see it fit and by any means necessary. I'm sure you've acquainted yourselves with my top men - Kota Long and Rin Lei. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough that my daughter knows these men very well, especially… the prior. At any rate, they've informed me of your pathetic struggle against them, and I assure you, they will be back. They will always come back, and this time the bounty will not simply be for my daughter, but for you, Lee. Long has informed me of the bond you two seem to share, and I have no remorse in saying that this has instilled an extra sense of determination in finding not only my daughter, but in destroying you. _

_Yes, this is a threat. I want my daughter back, and I assure you, I _will_ get my daughter back, Lee, whether or not you choose to cooperate._

_Chief Osamu _

_Northern Water Tribe_

Amira's eyes scanned the parchment several times, but always came back to the same location. She stared fixedly at the name of the men. _Kota,_ her eyes watered as she mouthed his name, _so this is what has become of you._ Tears streamed down her face as she threw the piece of parchment at the stonewall opposite her. How could he do this to her? How could he betray her? He wanted to get her out of there in the first place; was this - this job of his, his way of getting back at her for simply leaving? Would she blame him for this? Bringing her knees to her chest and burying her face in them, Amira allowed her mind to fill itself with the last images of the Kota she knew. She remembered the night she left, the night that nothing stood before her except a vast ocean. She was sure her troubles were behind her, but she always carried that guilt in her heart. She had loved Kota immensely, and he loved her as well. She couldn't imagine the pain it brought to him to realize that the girl he always wanted, the girl he was engaged to had left, had run, had selfishly stolen away. Lifting her head up from her knees, she allowed the tears to run down her cheeks. She couldn't be mad at Kota; it was her fault. She was selfish enough to run, but couldn't he understand? Couldn't he see that as long as she were free she would be happy? Was letting her go to be free, to be happy really that bad? Amira shook her head. She didn't know what to think. Whether blaming Kota or not was proper was still undecided to her, even though she still immensely blamed herself as the cause of all this.

Hugging her knees her crying slowly ceased, for realization had settled in. She was no longer 'Princess Amira'; she was now just simply Amira. She was sure her father had disowned her by now, and she was sure that she would make every effort not to see his face, nor her mother's ever again. She no longer wanted to claim her past as her own; she would no longer look to it for answers. Instead, she now wanted to make new decisions, new choices - choices that would better her, and if they displeased anyone, well then, they displeased them, and that would not be her concern. She was anew. She was reinvented. She was herself, a person, a person of freedom. She now looked not to the past, nor the future, for looking to both can greatly mislead a choice or decision. One is so greatly fixed, but unchangeable; the other so loose, and completely changeable. How was one to trust looking to either for answers? No, she would look to the present. She would stop worrying about what every little mistake impacted, and instead, build on them. She was taking control of her life now.

Stirring to her feet as if by an involuntary act, she looked out toward the street already growing dark as the night approached. Things were clearer to her now. She was unafraid to face destiny just as she was unafraid of changing it, and she was willing to accept her fate, whatever became of it. Words like fate and destiny so often intertwine with one another, but how similar are they? Yes, she supposed one affected the other, but what if they were complete opposites? What if fate was a simple chance, and destiny was yours to hone and manipulate if one eventually attained it? What if a person could have both, but neither meant anything to the other? What if fate and destiny, which so closely resemble one another, truly were anything but relatives? Suppose destiny was a destination one would reach, but in a longer period time, what was her destiny? Amira hadn't the slightest clue. Then suppose fate was a 'now' destination, the one your heart lead you to at the moment, what would be her fate? A smile twitched on Amira's face as she stooped down and picked up the cloak. _That was easy_, she thought to herself. There was only one stranger who could've had the nerve to follow her here, leave her sleeping in an alleyway as indifferent and cold as it may seem, but do _one_ nice thing, in turn of revealing something even greater. Something that he assured her 'did not concern her', but in fact did. Folding the cloak over and over in her hands, Amira looked in the direction of the street once more. Yes, Amira's perception of the cloak's owner and her fate was as bright as day, so what exactly was her fate? Her fate, she concluded, was that she would pay a visit to the stranger whose cloak and heart she was in grave need of.


	9. Chapter 9

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 9 - At Last**

His uncle hadn't muttered a word to him since the day he'd last seen Amira, and although it was unusual to have him not chiming in with pretentious proverbs and cryptic advice, Zuko dwelled in this moment for a while. As he'd thought before, what he really needed wasn't advice, and secretly he believed that Uncle understood this as well. Zuko had to find his own way out of this mess, out of thinking about … _her_. He had to. No one else would be able to guide him through this. How could they? They hadn't known what he'd felt; he hadn't even known what he felt towards her. As he dried the last piece of teacup, setting it on the order table, he looked out at the empty teashop. He was sure midnight was approaching as the streets sounded as deathly quiet as the store. As he stood there contemplating the silence, his mind began to wander. It stretched to regions Zuko hadn't known he was capable of thinking. He thought about what he felt about Amira, truly. Why he hadn't told her before, and what made him feel as if he could tell her now? There was one problem, though, even if he had decided to tell her, what would he say? He had convinced himself that feelings such as love and compassion were things he didn't experience, feelings made for a lesser human being, someone weaker. Images of her face flashed before him in his mind, and he could feel the corners of his lips pulling into a small smile as he thought about her. She was special. He knew that, for none other could make him ponder upon feelings. He chuckled a bit finding the thought that the outcast fire-bender was taking a minute to examine his feelings about a mere girl he'd met to be comical. Except … she wasn't simply a 'mere girl'. She induced and inspired feelings in him that he had not ordinarily felt, let alone thought he had.

Her with her beautiful hair and captivating eyes, was all he could think of as the days past, and he'd never truly wondered why. He'd simply accepted the fact that perhaps she may forever be on his mind, and that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He had wondered though, exactly what feeling this was? Love, maybe? But they'd hardly known each other! She'd only stayed for nearly half a month, so how could it be love? Was it possible? He shook his head, clearing away all thoughts. He was Zuko, for dragon's sake! He shouldn't be concerned with feelings and such. He was a warrior, a fighter, not some girl who sat about thinking about feelings. He felt something for her, and he would leave it at that. He no longer desired to know what he felt or how much it might've changed him. What did it even matter now? She was gone, never coming back, it seemed. Not yet, anyways, and then, how long would it take her to come back if she ever did? She was scared, scarred and no doubt felt betrayed by the sudden revelation that Zuko belonged to a group of people responsible for the majority of hurt in the world. It was difficult for even him to understand or comprehend how much their people had impacted an entire world for petty things such as power and greed. The war would never cease had no one step forward and stop this; however, no one would ever dare to or risk losing one's own life.

Just then, a sudden gust of wind had filled the teashop, blowing open windows and toppling over the teacup that rested so delicately on the counter. Zuko grunted and slammed both windows shut, proceeding into the back room to grab a cloth to pick up the shattered teacup.

* * *

><p>At the same moment however, another force had opened the door. Amira looked in, sure that Zuko would be somewhere in the shop. It was not like him to fall asleep that quickly. She stepped into the teashop, looking around suspiciously. Nothing stirred. Proceeding cautiously into the backroom, there was still no sign of Zuko. Amira grew evermore curious as she stood seemingly alone in the backroom, peeping through Zuko's door for perhaps a glance at him. There was no one in the room. Had they left then? Had he gotten her father? Probably. She wouldn't blame him for all that she'd put him and his uncle through; of course, she should've expected this. Amira shook her head, and with her heart heavy proceeded back outside of the teashop, down the street to the place where secrets were revealed and loyalties were questioned.<p>

* * *

><p>Zuko stumbled out of the storage closet finally locating a piece of cloth and replacement teacup. Had someone been here or was he simply imagining things? He could've sworn he'd heard the door open and close and a sigh being heaved. Who was here? Or who had been, for that matter? He dismissed all thoughts, whoever they were obviously didn't stay long enough to detect signs of life. Proceeding back into the teashop, Zuko stooped down, gathering up the broken teacup in the cloth and disposing of it. Something was different in the teashop, almost as if the mood had lightened for even a second. Putting the unbroken teacup back into the tray, Zuko dusted off his hands and surveyed the teashop one last time. For once his heart hadn't felt heavy; it was almost as it was when … she was around. Had she been the one to come in? Would she have? Perhaps she'd felt guilty, or perhaps she'd thought it necessary to turn back and avenge the rest of the world by whipping some water at him. Everyone seemed to prefer the latter. He had to go after her though, hadn't he? He wanted to see her again, didn't he? Of course, but would it be best? Would she want that? There was no use in going if he was to just be rejected once more. Then suddenly from a dark corner in the room, a familiar, cryptic voice had spoken, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go find her!" Zuko looked towards the corner, only to see Iroh seated at the table watching him intensely. He could tell his uncle was being very serious, an uncommon trait he unusually bore. At once, and without a proper farewell or inquisition as to where he would go to find her, Zuko sprinted down the street already knowing where he was bound.<p>

* * *

><p>She stayed there for a while by the pool, allowing her feet to immerse themselves in the water. She looked down at her reflection as she kicked her feet gently. So much had changed over her 16 years of age, from getting engaged, to running away, to falling in love with someone she'd never thought she would have. How could everything go so perfectly and then completely fail at the last second? How could life just throw people around and thus change situations usually for the worse? How could it seem like life was picking on her for every fault, for every action she'd performed? Why her? Why did she have to be thrown into living with prison wardens for parents and then into an almost-relationship with a fire-bender? Why, life? Life seemed to be responsible for everything that happened to Amira, not to say that she didn't claim responsibility for actions that she carried out. It was just the consequent things that life was responsible for, and for that her life was a tragedy waiting to climax. Heaving a deep sigh, Amira dismissed all thoughts and muttered the words, "Life sucks," as clearly into the air as she could. No one would respond, right? Unless life wanted to rebut with an immature, "No, you suck." However, someone <em>had<em> responded.

"I know," the voice said behind her. Amira's heart stopped as she stiffened up immediately. That voice, she knew that voice. Turning around, tears cascaded down her face as she fixed her eyes on that rumpled black hair and the scar on his left cheek. Standing up she ran towards him, flinging her arms around his neck immediately. It had taken him a few minutes, she assumed, to recover from the fact that she'd been hugging him again, but eventually, he could feel his arms wrap themselves around her waist as he buried his face between her shoulder and jaw. Amira closed her eyes tightly, disallowing anymore tears from falling. Although she hadn't been certain of what it was and never bothered to ask Zuko about it, she'd felt something wet on her neck at that moment, perhaps it was a tear. She didn't care. It didn't matter; at this point nothing mattered. Amira pulled away from the hug still clutched in his arms. Looking up at his amber eyes, she could no longer see the indifference that had usually occupied that space, but there was a new emotion there. No, not love or compassion, not even desire. It was satisfaction. For so long, all he'd needed was her presence, her spirit, just her, and now, he had that in his arms, and for that he was more than satisfied. Amira's eyes flickered down to his lips and then back up at his eyes, shifting between the two constantly as they drew closer to hers. Their lips had finally succumbed to one another in a passionate and loving way. The grips around each other had strengthened, and this intensified their kiss even more. Amira's heart raced as she felt her chest rise and fall in unison with Zuko's. This was where she belonged, at the moment anyway, and as cliché as it sounds, she wouldn't imagine herself anywhere else but here.

Their lips finally pulled apart from one another's; their chests rising and falling deeply as smiles were plastered on both their faces. Leaning his forehead against hers and looking deeply in those amethyst eyes, Zuko felt his mouth gape open for a rather long time as if he were ready to speak. He watched as Amira waited expectantly to see whether or not he would actually talk. The issue was though, that he hadn't known what he was going to say. It felt as if words were bubbling in his chest and would come out through his mouth in any minute. Was he sick? No, of course not. Then what was this, what did he need to say so badly? "I-I don't not like you," he muttered rapidly and involuntarily. Zuko closed his mouth immediately. That? That was what he wanted to say! Not only was it utter nonsense, but it was completely out of character. No, Prince Zuko does not think about love and feelings; he thinks about honour and respect. Then again, maybe he didn't want to be Prince Zuko anymore. Instead, he would be Zuko. He wouldn't be as soft and 'mushy' as one would naturally guess was the opposite of his uptight character, but he would learn to _feel_ again, and not think it a bad thing. He watched as tears filled Amira's eyes, and immediately he'd taken her face in his hands with his thumbs resting on either cheek prepared to clear away any spilt tears. He watched as her lips twitched into a smile before whispering, "I love you too." Their lips found each other's once again; this time only locking onto one another's for a minute, but no doubt possessing the same passion. Separating their foreheads from each other, Zuko took her hand in his as both proceeded down the street, walking past the teashop and continuing on. Neither said a word to the other, but neither wanted to. Words are lovely for expressing thought, yes, but sometimes not always required to convey a feeling. At last the silence they each experienced individually wasn't as discomforting now that it was reinvented into a comfortable silence, one where every unspoken word, undone action and un-thought thought was completely understood. At last they had found comfort that each so vastly wandered the world for and so greatly needed; at last each had come back to their sense of peace, to their … sanctuary.

So they continued down, walking for blocks and blocks, passing every street corner and alleyway, never looking back to where they came from, and leading each other away from the place that had introduced their feelings to one another, as well as stirred up feelings against them only to rekindle the feeling they both shared, now undoubtedly, for one another, and the feeling they felt would help them conquer their greatest obstacles … love.


	10. Chapter 10

Playing With Fire

**Chapter 10 - Leave It All Behind**

The couple finally retired back to Zuko's quarters about four or five hours into the morning. Underneath the lone blanket, the two slept for several hours more, still without a single word being said or action being questioned. For the first time in either of their lives, worry had not consumed their minds. After a wonderful night last night filled with rediscovery and a few new discoveries of their own, there was no use in waking up a delighted two. Iroh proceeded on with his duties mindful that they were sleeping, and thus tiptoeing around in the backroom whenever needed and working in the teashop until either awoke. The two showed no signs of waking promptly nor did the signs that they'd want to leave each other's presence become evident either. No, they were perfectly content exactly where they were - together, without worry, all thoughts and plans devised against them now foiled. It was going to be the start of a very good life between the two. Either were so scared of admitting and succumbing to the feelings that they felt for one another; moreover, both were scared, deathly scared, of coming to grips with actually _feeling_. Neither would say it aloud, but despite all the dangers, all the perils, all the events that had led up to this day, the violence, the threats … none were scarier than the thought of possessing feelings that would leave one vulnerable. The thought that one must surrender all willingness to hold up barriers and let another person was frightening to each of them. Both tried desperately to be as strong as they thought themselves, or as everyone around them thought them to be. Their previous experiences in their childhood hardened their character as well. Not necessarily making them bitter, but making them stubborn in terms of accepting change and actions they had little control over. It was obvious that vulnerability in any form and even in the slightest idea was not praised by either of them. They preferred control; they needed something stable in an unstable life they each individually lived. Now, though, their entire perspective on the matter had changed.

How, though? Both were obviously emotionally wrecked as well unstable as their pasts tell a lot. How could the unification of these two unstable beings create complete stability for each? It wasn't as if they hadn't confessed to their feelings. They allowed themselves to be vulnerable when with each other, and perhaps in that the answer is revealed. Perhaps it is when one is the most vulnerable that one acquires a strength unmatched and never-before experienced. It was in breaking down the walls that a shield was developed. One not necessarily shielding the heart from all feeling, but in offering that same stability they both needed without denying the very involuntary feelings they so greatly obtained but pushed away out of fear. They no longer were afraid of confessing their feelings to one another; it was safe, it was easy, and in a way it was a relief. It was something that both the outcast and the runaway brought to the table that offered each exactly what they wanted. The outcast wanted to be needed, and the runaway didn't want to run away anymore. In a sense both needs and wants were linked, and who knew that they would attain these needs by one of a similar story to theirs? Perhaps it was just the person they were obtaining these wants and needs from. Perhaps it was deeper than that, or perhaps it was simply fate. Very good fate that they would meet each and fall in love while restoring a piece of what their entire being craved. Wouldn't it be easier and happier if that was all it was? Simply fate. Fate that should therefore be accepted with open arms. Let it be that then. Let it be that the outcast and the runaway met because fate was being very good to each of them, and let the story end without any complications or any sorrow right there … right?

Now, what type of story would that be if there wasn't a twist in the end?

* * *

><p>Several weeks had passed and Amira and Zuko were never happier. They seemed to glide around the teashop, move swiftly around each other as if both were engaged in a graceful and elegant dance. The atmosphere in the teashop was filled with an extra sense of serenity these weeks that had passed, and the smile on Iroh's face whenever he saw Zuko and Amira together was incredible. Everything was great, every customer was satisfied and every ounce of chi was seemingly flowing smoothly and correctly through the teashop … that was until one dreadful night. The streets seemed to be filling themselves with the rain water that poured down heavily on Ba Sing Se that night. Customers fled to their homes immediately, and Amira, Zuko and Iroh attempted at locking up the teashop and placing buckets under the leaky roof. As Zuko proceeded to close the door against the incoming rain, a voice squeaked up. "Excuse me, sir," the voice stated. Zuko's brow furrowed as he opened the door once more. Who on earth would be - ah, the scroll man. Without any further statements or inquiries, the short, quivering man placed a small scroll in Zuko's hand and fled off down the flooding streets. Iroh dismissed himself to his quarters for the night bowing to each member still in the teashop before heading out. Amira approached a bewildered-looking Zuko who still seemed to have not made a dent in opening the scroll. "Everything alright, Zuko," she asked as she placed one hand on his bicep, looking down at the scroll. Zuko said nothing, and as Amira looked down at the scroll she'd figured out why. Upon the scroll in a fine calligraphy were the words 'Lee and Amira'. Amira's heart pounded against her chest as Zuko slipped the scroll into her hands. Amira looked up at him as if unknowing what exactly she should do with it. Should she indeed open it or would she simply dispose of it?<p>

Zuko looked at her expectantly; he must've assumed she'd opened it. Amira did just that. Unravelling the small scroll in her hands, Amira's heart dropped as in a finer writing the phrase, "You were warned," was plastered in the centre of the scroll without any address. Amira looked up at Zuko whose eyes had already taken note of the discomforting message. They needn't know the address to which the letter had come from. They already figured out the monster who'd hunt perilously after his daughter. The scroll slipped out of Amira's hands as worry and shock overwhelmed her being. Her life was spiralling downward once more; she felt like that cold, shut-away little girl she once was. They were closing in on her; they would have her eventually, and Zuko what would they do with him? Just then, two well-sculpted and secure arms fastened themselves around her in a tight embrace. "Look at me," the raspy voice whispered to her. Amira's tear-filled eyes wandered up to his. "They're not going to-" Amira's lips quivered to a part. "But-but what if they do find me," she whispered as the tears now cascaded down her eyes. Zuko shook his head. "Yes, Zuko, they will! My father, you have no idea what he'd do to get me back and-"

"You have no idea what _I'd _do to keep you safe," he whispered, his voice raised over hers. A small smile twitched on Amira's face as she buried her face in his chest. For so long her mind hadn't become cluttered with doubt and fear and questions, decisions that she would have to make. Choices that would eventually arise from a situation like this. All thoughts were abandoned by a sudden _swoosh_ of peace that blew through her as Zuko planted his lips on her forehead. "Come on. Let's head off to bed," he motioned. Amira sighed and gave a weak nod, following him to his room where they both crawled into bed and each other's arms under that faithful blanket. Although Zuko had nodded off to sleep almost immediately, Amira was still very much awake. Her mind was swimming with several thoughts about the recent letter. They were obviously going to come back, whether it was just Long and his companion or more than that was unknown but not unlikely. Amira was sure the battle between the two sides would be gruesome, and a life or two would be claimed. Yes, it wasn't a full, all-out battle, but Long was a madman now; he'd do anything to complete his task and finish off his ex fiancé's lover in the process. Zuko! That was her main concern, Both him and his uncle couldn't be harmed or put into anymore danger; this wasn't their battle, and as much as they would like to convince themselves that they were, they simply weren't. Amira would do anything to prevent an injury or the loss of either of them. Her mind was racked with a million possibilities all coming back to one that she had sworn she'd given up but for the right intentions might result to once more.

She'd gathered her things just as quietly and quickly as she'd kissed Zuko one last time. Throwing her cloak around her, she could still hear the violent rain pouring down outside. She knew exactly what she was setting herself up for. Proceeding out into the teashop, Amira quickly scavenged for the order pad, tearing off a piece of paper and scribbling on it immediately. Tears slipped from her eyes and travelled down her cheeks in long, flowing rivers. With every stroke she performed on the piece of paper, she could feel her heart sink lower and lower as realization had settled in.

_Dear Zuko,_

_I'm so sorry, but this was necessary. By now you've probably figured out the point of this letter, and I hope you understand why I'm doing what I've always done. I suppose you could blame it on my character. Perhaps I'm forever a 'runaway', but the reason I'm going on is that I don't want to involve you or your uncle in my mess as I'm sure you wouldn't involve me in yours. It's tragic we've only had a month and a few weeks to spend together when I felt as if you were all I truly needed my entire life. I need you to know, Zuko, that you will forever have an impact on me. You've made me feel wanted; for once in my life, I've never declined running away because I was unhappy. You brought me happiness, Zuko, and it's strange that it took someone with a similar story to mine to bring me everything I needed. I've been debating whether or not our meeting was destiny or fate as I'm fully convinced that both are completely different. I've come to the conclusion that we were to be united by fate, but our destinies were two different instances. I don't know if that's much of an explanation to why I'm leaving or that mends the hurt, but always know that I'll forever take a part of you with me. Where people may have seen a monster, I saw a hero. _

_Love,_

_Amira_

Giving the note one last glance through her teary eyes, Amira proceeded back into the backroom slipping through Zuko's door and leaving the now folded letter on the side she'd rested on. With her cloak clutched tight to her, she heaved a great sigh and proceeded out the doors of The Jasmine Dragon. The wind and rain stung her face, but with every step she could feel a graver stinging in her chest. She had to do this not for her, but for Zuko, and perhaps that was what made the biggest difference to her. All her life she'd run away because _she_ was unhappy, because _she_ wanted to, but now she would run away and leave it all behind as she usually did because she wanted him to be safe. She was a danger every second she was there, and she needed to leave. As she walked down the slippery road almost out of the city, she took one glance back. She would miss him, yes, but she felt as if he would always be apart of her. The part that was ready to truly be free; the part that had inspired her becoming anew. Turning back toward the road ahead, Amira was no longer afraid of what she'd face. The unknown was just an adventure now, and the safety of Zuko as well as the determination to avoid her father's watchful eyes were her inspiration.

She'd be fine, and Zuko would as well, eventually. Something about an outcast and a runaway so wonderfully connected together forms a beautiful but inevitably disheartening story which was what this story truly was.


End file.
